There is a wind chime at my friend's bedroom window. Each time air rushes in, it rings me into teleporting through time travel. Like, Nostalgia were tangible. I go to the doorway of our neighbours from my childhood. They had a wind chime there too, the first one I had ever seen. I loved for the elders to lift me up so that I could touch it into ringing. It's like, I liked pretending to be the air. I still, like pretending to be the air only, when I was little, I liked how it made that noise to make itself known. Right now, I just like how it is so intangible that when you paint live landscapes,
you could never draw it even though it was everywhere. Everywhere..
Yesterday, I was walking in that same old neighbourhood with the wind chime nxeighbours. In the streets, there is a row of trees on one side, they grow these small white flowers that blossom the prettiest perfume, the flowers always lay on the street like they were trying to knit a carpet out of their pretty and I guess, it is fair they part with the trees, if it means their belle will finally be seen, when a thick veil of leaves won't cover their blooming
beauty - I would think as a kid. I would pick up the never stepped on part of this huge carpet and boquet a gift to my mother. Yesterday, I could only think how parting from the veil leaves of the trees, left these flowers dying. Could not bring myself to bring a present to my mother out of what is dying.
Today, I was studying and got so bored, I started making paper boats out of the used post it notes. As a little girl, I used to plan sea battles while making these boats. Today, I felt as though I was making them so I wouldn't drown in defeat trying to understand irrational numbers from the rational side of my mind, today I held on to the paper boats not to win a battle, but to try not to loose this war.
I think I may have grown up a little bit,
too much.
