Tragedy blows through your life like a tornado, uprooting everything, creating chaos.
You wait for the dust to settle, and then you choose.
You can live in the wreckage and pretend it's still the mansion you remember.
Or you can crawl from the rubble and slowly rebuild.
Because after disaster strikes, the most important thing to do is for you to move on.
It hit me hard today when I was listening to my ipod while studying, and the song changes to " Shoot the Moon" by Norah Jones.In an instant, I felt a sudden jerk all over my body, almost like a jolt of electricity running through my flesh.Though it may sound strange enough, I felt that a certain part of my past is dying to revive itself in a way which I've
never really,quite expected.
You can call it a blast from the past.
And If my memory serves me right, 8 months have quickly gone by, since I've tasted the good old days of mugging at Woodland's / Esplanade library.
There's a list of favourite songs which I enter into my playlist whenever I touch my books with her.Without doubt,I'm still able to name out each and every single song, confidently, of which Norah Jones was one of them.Whenever they're in play, just at that moment, I seem to enter a completely different dimension, where only she and I exist, where I would just bask in the love and bond that both of us once shared.I can still remember the distinctive smell of her silky black hair, her child-like laughter which adds life to mine and not to forget the cosy corner we always sat at.
It was all too perfect.
And then, before I could I silently drift off any further, she would bring me back to reality by giving the wooden table a soft but audible "thud" and send the sweetest " dont dream anymore" into my ears.
To me, it was better than any candle-light dinner at a fine dining restaurant.
And although this would be somewhat personal to me before, much have changed and I have no fuss about leaking some of it out.There is nothing more important than letting your heart out ( to the right people duh ) instead of letting it cry right deep down inside.
The hurt which seemed so everlasting took it's last breathe in me and went without a trace
Today, the other songs are still desperately waiting to be played in my Ipod ( sometimes I hear their evil laughter and them beckoning to me : JUSTIN , Play me, Play me.) , but its safer that I do not touch them for time being, just in case other memories start seeping out of my veins.
Maybe when the years have passed, I will rediscover the old playlist once again, with someone else new.
You wait for the dust to settle, and then you choose.
You can live in the wreckage and pretend it's still the mansion you remember.
Or you can crawl from the rubble and slowly rebuild.
Because after disaster strikes, the most important thing to do is for you to move on.
It hit me hard today when I was listening to my ipod while studying, and the song changes to " Shoot the Moon" by Norah Jones.In an instant, I felt a sudden jerk all over my body, almost like a jolt of electricity running through my flesh.Though it may sound strange enough, I felt that a certain part of my past is dying to revive itself in a way which I've
never really,quite expected.
You can call it a blast from the past.
And If my memory serves me right, 8 months have quickly gone by, since I've tasted the good old days of mugging at Woodland's / Esplanade library.
There's a list of favourite songs which I enter into my playlist whenever I touch my books with her.Without doubt,I'm still able to name out each and every single song, confidently, of which Norah Jones was one of them.Whenever they're in play, just at that moment, I seem to enter a completely different dimension, where only she and I exist, where I would just bask in the love and bond that both of us once shared.I can still remember the distinctive smell of her silky black hair, her child-like laughter which adds life to mine and not to forget the cosy corner we always sat at.
It was all too perfect.
And then, before I could I silently drift off any further, she would bring me back to reality by giving the wooden table a soft but audible "thud" and send the sweetest " dont dream anymore" into my ears.
To me, it was better than any candle-light dinner at a fine dining restaurant.
And although this would be somewhat personal to me before, much have changed and I have no fuss about leaking some of it out.There is nothing more important than letting your heart out ( to the right people duh ) instead of letting it cry right deep down inside.
The hurt which seemed so everlasting took it's last breathe in me and went without a trace
Today, the other songs are still desperately waiting to be played in my Ipod ( sometimes I hear their evil laughter and them beckoning to me : JUSTIN , Play me, Play me.) , but its safer that I do not touch them for time being, just in case other memories start seeping out of my veins.
Maybe when the years have passed, I will rediscover the old playlist once again, with someone else new.
posted by Turbanmale at
3:24 PM
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