Recalling Remembering
Sometimes I close my eyes and remember remembering you the last time on the bus while getting back from work, when I’m trying to sleep, and when I‘m walking on the drizzling rain on the lonely street at 10 in the evening, while taking a long drag on my cigarette with sips of coffee, the time when I will be on the airplane seat flying abroad pursuing my destiny. This time the memories are less clearer than the last time I remembered you while doing the dishes at my place with some nostalgic music in the background, and it’s fading away with every single rotation of the Earth, with every sleeps of night, the nap of the day, and blink of these eyes. This is how the brain works, and how you forget him, her, them, things, and everything with time. But the written letters, words, and phrases of feelings last longer as long as the papers ain’t torn. The papers are not torn yet. All the pieces of paper are small but hold much, much that matters to me. The time that shall never slip by, th