Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Remember Me.

A while ago, my mother admitted that she's slowly starting to forget things about Kermit. It's been six years. I tried recollecting my favourite memories of him, and I found it was a little hard for me, too. I mean, the memories are still there - his beautiful eyes during that short period of time when the car headlights caught him as we entered the gate before Papa or Mama dimmed them; him jumping onto the washing stone, putting his paws on my shoulders to get a better look over the compound walls; me singing to him - a few memories remain, but the details are getting hazy. I don't remember the exact colour of his eyes, I don't remember the weight of his paws, I don't remember what it felt like to have his head on my lap. It's slipping away.

Memories. What wonderful and terrifying things they are.

Off late I've been paying extra attention to the time I spend with people I love, trying my best to remember details that I know can be easily forgotten. Forgetting and being forgotten - two things I've recently come to fear.

There are so many moments in my life that I wish never ended. But now that they have, I try desperately to keep them alive in my memory. Little things keep coming back and it seems so important that I don't lose sight of them again. I wonder sometimes why I've started feeling this way. It comes and goes, but when it comes, it's overwhelming.

"Time takes it all whether you want it to or not, time takes it all. Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness." Stephen King.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Beautiful Letdown.

How much of myself do I have to give, over and over again, before I'm allowed to expect the most basic of kindnesses to come my way?