I publish a pitifully lacking weblog. I haven’t updated in months. Summer is over. The first day of school is tomorrow. And now, only a rant…
It is not often that a memory of the past entreats my peaceful mind to act on some fanciful ideas it had wanted for the future. But when the past makes such a chaotic request – how possibly can I silence it? Waltzing in to my stable life – demanding answers for a self I no longer know. Criticizing its own procrastination — if only its demands had come years sooner. Perhaps, perhaps then, it would have been simpler.
And how long can you argue with the side of you that knows no time or space – much less, reason? If you submit, you must look like a fool. If you refuse – a terrible aura of incompletion hangs about your consciousness – indefinitely. You are absolutely bound to take action. Either act invites depression. No one immediately wins, but possibly for some distant part of you that is wanting hope replenished.
You give in to – someone – yourself. You dig up the past and follow transparent, frayed, threads to the present. Where all you can find is disheartening… and incomplete… still largely unknown. With such tattered information – and morale – you attempt to do what you ought to have done so very long ago… you extend yourself to someone else. Wait for acceptance, or rejection…the mail, the phone…
Your efforts may never have been received – even if they were. Years of distance, fear, and faint memories muffle your message into something formal, removed, forced – for the slight chance it is even momentarily entertained. It is almost destined to failure. It barely knows itself what it was trying to convey.
You wonder when the lingering memories will vanish, you almost hope they won’t. Perhaps they are giving you something to daydream about – to wonder about. And how often the possibilities plague you – leaving only a slight smile – as you can constantly create some imaginary life that might have been.