history puts a saint in every dream
time
"She is not waiting. Not quite. It is more that the years mean nothing to her any more, that the dreams and the street cannot touch her.
She remains on the edges of time, implacable, unhurt, beyond, and one day you will open your eyes and see her, and after that, the dark.
It is not a reaping. Instead, she will pluck you, gently, like a feather, or a flower for her hair."
neil gaiman wrote that for tori's strange little girls album. i think of it now as time has been on my mind heavily as of late. i find myself sitting at a convergence of moments that make me remember the past more than i have in awhile.
my ten year high school reunion is happening this weekend, and instead of feeling a general fog of happiness at the thought of that time in my life, i'm going through and sorting out the specifics. i'm remembering what it felt like to climb into that rx-7 and feel like we could end up anywhere. i remember the smell of the developer chemical we used in photography, and the magic of dipping in a sheet of white and seeing a moment slowly rise to the surface - each time as surprising as the first. i remember what it felt like to say goodbye to my best friend, and to know that at that moment i was also saying goodbye to my childhood. i remember building my own little universe and watching it all crumble to pieces as high school ended and we all scattered to the wind like dust. and now we come together again, ten years later. i will be so glad to see their faces, and yet i know it will be bittersweet. time continues to take its toll.
i'm writing this in my last few hours of vacation, and as i do every year at this time, i feel so sad to see it go. i love the moments with my family where we are all so unencumbered by reality. i've so loved the days with my husband where we can let the fates take us where they want - we are willing and we are ready, as long as we are together. i've felt so connected and close to the things that matter the most to me. i can feel the cells of my body taking strength from these days. and now to say goodbye - to feel it all slowly morphing into a memory - i'm not ready to let it go.
but time is indifferent to our wants. it continues on whether we like it or not. and we say our goodbyes and eventual hellos, and we dream of yesterday, and we watch the sun set time and time again.
the clock tolls and we're one minute closer to something.
"She is not waiting. Not quite. It is more that the years mean nothing to her any more, that the dreams and the street cannot touch her.
She remains on the edges of time, implacable, unhurt, beyond, and one day you will open your eyes and see her, and after that, the dark.
It is not a reaping. Instead, she will pluck you, gently, like a feather, or a flower for her hair."
neil gaiman wrote that for tori's strange little girls album. i think of it now as time has been on my mind heavily as of late. i find myself sitting at a convergence of moments that make me remember the past more than i have in awhile.
my ten year high school reunion is happening this weekend, and instead of feeling a general fog of happiness at the thought of that time in my life, i'm going through and sorting out the specifics. i'm remembering what it felt like to climb into that rx-7 and feel like we could end up anywhere. i remember the smell of the developer chemical we used in photography, and the magic of dipping in a sheet of white and seeing a moment slowly rise to the surface - each time as surprising as the first. i remember what it felt like to say goodbye to my best friend, and to know that at that moment i was also saying goodbye to my childhood. i remember building my own little universe and watching it all crumble to pieces as high school ended and we all scattered to the wind like dust. and now we come together again, ten years later. i will be so glad to see their faces, and yet i know it will be bittersweet. time continues to take its toll.
i'm writing this in my last few hours of vacation, and as i do every year at this time, i feel so sad to see it go. i love the moments with my family where we are all so unencumbered by reality. i've so loved the days with my husband where we can let the fates take us where they want - we are willing and we are ready, as long as we are together. i've felt so connected and close to the things that matter the most to me. i can feel the cells of my body taking strength from these days. and now to say goodbye - to feel it all slowly morphing into a memory - i'm not ready to let it go.
but time is indifferent to our wants. it continues on whether we like it or not. and we say our goodbyes and eventual hellos, and we dream of yesterday, and we watch the sun set time and time again.
the clock tolls and we're one minute closer to something.