Friday, December 21, 2012

Letter to nowhere

Here's a letter I wrote more than a year back, one which never got sent out. Thought I'd immortalise the random snippets in here before it gets flung about elsewhere in my room and somehow disappears from the face of the earth.

" When I was passed your letter to read, the number 72 was pretty much etched into memory. 72 days. It's been that long, funny how time passes so quickly huh. How the counted days seem to be so much time passed, yet in fleeting moments of events, it would seem just like yesterday. Take the party for instance - 4 Dec 2010. As I write this letter, it is now 21 March 2011, 1.40am, Monday. Just another moment in life that months down the road, would seem just like yesterday. Life seems so much more beautiful when the moments, rather than the seconds, count. Time can slip pass our fingers so elusively, but moments? They are wondrous trappings that can be clung onto, etched into memory and held close to the heart. "

" I listen intently to him each time he relives that moment with me but I can never understand how it truely feels. The closest I could get is the parallelism of my experience of once again living life and not being dragged through each day just surviving on instinct and habit. "

"  ' It is when you have lost everything, that you are truely free to do anything' Its is hauntingly beautiful that such loss, brings about such release. A new start is always better than an arduous journey of trappings to thread on. When you're out, don't look back. It is still just a mistake made, a mistake done, a mistake passed. It will be but a scar, not an open wound for life."

" As I write to this part of the letter, I'm left wondering why I took up science when words and writing are what I love. I'm constantly trying to make sense of shapes, terms cruelly printed on paper. Which very unfortunately... I'm supposed to master. "

" I'll end this with one quote I live by, that's why it's inked on me. 

' Everything happens for a reason. This too shall pass. '

One day when you look back, the dots that make the little nuances and notions of life would all connect. The purpose of each making, clear as crystal. No matter how good or bad each happening is, it will all come to pass. So grit your teeth through the trying times and treasure the golden moments. A life lost is narry as painful as a life never lived. "

Back to packing of the room.

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