Do you wake up to old forgotten names? Those that were part of your identity at some point of time? Those that were You, at some nondescript hour of finite existence?
Those names that you do not hear anymore. People that you were, but are not anymore.
Or perhaps, you are, somewhere deep within...those old selves.
Selves that sublimated because the sun was too much to stand. Or selves that melted away like mercury dripping down the soul in calculated precise droplets, scarring every bit of You that it touched. Or may be selves which decided to unite with your shadow...those that visit your form each day with a tangential inclination - touching and yet apart - those projections of You that merge into your being as darkness sets in...the silhouettes you know so well and yet do not endow with recognition.
Old selves are, sometimes, like old rooms. Air them out, when you can. Those rooms You have lived in. They are still fragrant with the reminiscences of half-forgotten details. Air them out, with utmost care, every now and then - before dampness invades.
Felt deep and numb.
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ReplyDeleteDon't you think that dampness is inevitable at times? :’) But thank you for the reminder, more often than not we get swept away by life only to be left with an empty shell of a being.
ReplyDelete❤️❤️ those rooms are the only places where we can hide and shut out the clamour that constantly drags us away from our true selves.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this. It stirred up feelings I didn't know existed. :)
ReplyDeleteAgree fully. Your metaphors are really persuasive.
ReplyDeleteAmong a lot of effort wasted upon innumerable meaningless things daily, one should grow a regular habit of 'airing' those olden days