You’d think I’d wallow in a dusk that furrows
headlong into the dawn of morrow, but never grants me
the past, as if we have one way tickets in an occlusion
that can only faintly trigger mere memory, but does not take you to
its living decks. I am just absolutely hopeless in this
kind of propellant time machine, where the present is like a shut window
in a horror ride, leaving you gasping at the fading moments
as if every pearl you obtained, must be let go off! And I say to myself,
sometimes we need to walk backwards in the lineargraphy!
I wouldn’t even mind being scolded again by a teacher back when
I was twelve. Or Mum feeling disappointed in advance that I
didn’t do as well in my exams as I actually did. Is the progression
of Universal expansion, all that we can foresee? Is the acquisition of
more knowledge all the advancement we can perceive?! I think of the
past as the secrets that I lived with that I am careful not to share
with strangers, those glass marbles in a jar that I refused to exhibit
even to friends! And what about distant lives, that none of us even have
the slightest remembrance of? You may even remember a little garment
that you wore when you were six, but what can take you back to the
little child in a castle that you were six hundred years ago?!
I think of reverse substantiation; yet, we are only a motion with no reprieve,
if it were as easy as to turn the hands of the clock backwards? But
it is all so futile, so implausible, so degenerating as age making
you weaker, less mobile to your defiant and disconsolate consternation!
If we have only lives in the future unprepared though certain to meet
our destruction! I look at myself in the mirror and see what’s behind me,
and it is some kind of magic in vain. How experience gives us wisdom,
and wisdom fails nostalgia, sadly! Then, I beseech time not to burn my
bridges; not to leave me in quandary; as if the car on the street to nowhere
can never have a reverse gear!
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