Freeze, melt, evaporate, condense
So it is then, this is how it is. Do you see threads once tied being broken, friendships once had being lost? Only the night sky stays the same, and the ever so faithful stars which we hardly see over here-- nevertheless, they're the same. We are in love with them because they stay fixed in the starting line we return to when everything else is gone.
Do you see how we are different? If we had been tracking each other's maps we wouldn't be so surprised at the change that greets us now. We are not surprised at the change, not exactly-- after all, we expected them. Nevertheless, change itself never fails to surprise, no matter how much you've prepared yourself.
The friendships that had spun themselves in meteor streaks have faded into the night sky; the interchange where lines converged to a point is now far behind. It's interesting to think of ties as a web of lines on a sillicon chip, and the further a line is from a common point, the less likely it is to converge with the other line again. Distance fades relationships but we all knew that. We've all come a far way from who we were before and I hope we're happier with who we are now. We might disapprove of each other at present, but coming so far, it doesn't matter anymore. Our opinions no longer impact them if they had in the past. Who are we to judge after all? We're merely unused, and less likely to be accepting if they were once close, but only strangers now. We brush by and who's to say we once knew the other? No longer united by a common community we fade out of each other's existance, maybe to be reminded occasionally of one another but hardly important enough to take notice of, gasp and despair over loosening ropes. When a ship leaves a harbour it finds another, if it can untie the knot that once bound them to the previous.
What lasts, then? We long to find our own stars to return to. In celestial objects we trust; their magnitute and (seemingly) immortality leaves us breathless. We seek solace in the blue sky, or a heaven up there which some place their faith in. It has always been the same, change, unchange, change, unchange, the constant, the variable, the past, the future. You're my harbour now but will you be my star? Grip your hand and hope for unchange in this we have; we dare not ask for always but we hope for long enough. Eventually stars will die as well, but they live long enough for us to breathe their light.
Do you see how we are different? If we had been tracking each other's maps we wouldn't be so surprised at the change that greets us now. We are not surprised at the change, not exactly-- after all, we expected them. Nevertheless, change itself never fails to surprise, no matter how much you've prepared yourself.
The friendships that had spun themselves in meteor streaks have faded into the night sky; the interchange where lines converged to a point is now far behind. It's interesting to think of ties as a web of lines on a sillicon chip, and the further a line is from a common point, the less likely it is to converge with the other line again. Distance fades relationships but we all knew that. We've all come a far way from who we were before and I hope we're happier with who we are now. We might disapprove of each other at present, but coming so far, it doesn't matter anymore. Our opinions no longer impact them if they had in the past. Who are we to judge after all? We're merely unused, and less likely to be accepting if they were once close, but only strangers now. We brush by and who's to say we once knew the other? No longer united by a common community we fade out of each other's existance, maybe to be reminded occasionally of one another but hardly important enough to take notice of, gasp and despair over loosening ropes. When a ship leaves a harbour it finds another, if it can untie the knot that once bound them to the previous.
What lasts, then? We long to find our own stars to return to. In celestial objects we trust; their magnitute and (seemingly) immortality leaves us breathless. We seek solace in the blue sky, or a heaven up there which some place their faith in. It has always been the same, change, unchange, change, unchange, the constant, the variable, the past, the future. You're my harbour now but will you be my star? Grip your hand and hope for unchange in this we have; we dare not ask for always but we hope for long enough. Eventually stars will die as well, but they live long enough for us to breathe their light.