When did that happen and why?
I worked this Saturday. It was a full day's job and by evening, I was exhausted. Another colleague was also working so the two of us decided to salvage the evening by going for a movie. We watched 'Queen'.
I loved the movie. It was so sweet and simple. How much friendship and cheer can come into a life if one simply allows.Just allows.
Whilst there, I ran into a couple of people from yoga class. We chatted, laughed, and moved away. I didn't seek them out later.
On the way back, I dropped my friend home. We had been discussing road trips and I was telling her about the trip to Door County from Chicago. After my friend had gone, I drove home. I fiddled with the radio and then switched it off. I listened to the CD instead - the song, "Kabeera" from Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani."
As I drove, I had this very vivid sensation of being transparent. Or maybe not as much transparent as permeable. The drive to Wisconsin had been lush and glorious. We had driven across avenues that were whimsical with colour - fiery reds and mellow yellows. But I couldn't feel anything from the memories. They seem to just pass through me. As if all of me had become this sieve and whatever days I am living now will pass through very fluidly. Nothing will remain. Even the memories won't remain as memories.
I can't remember when this shift happened and why.
I loved the movie. It was so sweet and simple. How much friendship and cheer can come into a life if one simply allows.Just allows.
Whilst there, I ran into a couple of people from yoga class. We chatted, laughed, and moved away. I didn't seek them out later.
On the way back, I dropped my friend home. We had been discussing road trips and I was telling her about the trip to Door County from Chicago. After my friend had gone, I drove home. I fiddled with the radio and then switched it off. I listened to the CD instead - the song, "Kabeera" from Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani."
As I drove, I had this very vivid sensation of being transparent. Or maybe not as much transparent as permeable. The drive to Wisconsin had been lush and glorious. We had driven across avenues that were whimsical with colour - fiery reds and mellow yellows. But I couldn't feel anything from the memories. They seem to just pass through me. As if all of me had become this sieve and whatever days I am living now will pass through very fluidly. Nothing will remain. Even the memories won't remain as memories.
I can't remember when this shift happened and why.
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