Saturday, August 22, 2009
I sprained my ankle. It was an awful experience. It took me a full 5 mins to limp my way to the bathroom from bed. I stayed home the whole day to realise I've completed all my work. I spent my afternoon, cooped at home and played the piano...Hummed a tune, with my fingers scaling along the piano. It wasn't any song. It was a song; my song. There was no scores, no chords, just the touch of my fingers & a tune. Within me, all was saturated. The soak of this relief and peace, overwhelmed my soul. I longed for that moment of joy. And like a tune, it all stopped when the last note ended. It makes me wanna keep on playing, savouring at every tint of the feeling that flows within. In hope that the feeling would never leave. How beautiful it was. I don't meant how well I played, it was the music that lingered which totally consumed my whole self. Despite how immense that feeling was, nothing could stop it when silence forced its way through to set in. The tune left and I can't control it. Memories, it's like a tune. And a tune's like a passion. The joy and peace grow as the tune goes on. But when all stop and the silence dwells in. Everything else fades. Trying to grasp hold of them, but they vanish to air. How beautiful yet melancholic. Every moment of life has to go, it didn't matter whether it was good or bad. No one can ever stop time, or replay it just to relive that moment, that feeling, that joy. I may fail to translate this moment or feeling to words, or should I say no words are able to express it. Our dreams are young and we both know,
They will take us where we want to go
Hold me now,
Touch me now,
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