Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Faded. Fading.

Sometimes sitting in a quiet, peaceful room late into the evening, listening to a simple guitar play a simple tune, is exactly what is needed. Sometimes you need to cry. To feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. To be overwhelmed by life and death and the world.

Sometimes the past and the present seem so large, so overwhelmingly vast, that they're impossible to comprehend. Impossible to believe. Did I really live that life? Was that really me? Was I so in love? So unhappy? So confused? So certain? Was I so transfixed, so lost, so determined? Where is that boy? How did he become this man?

And... of course he became this man.

And sometimes the future... is so unimaginable, so impossible to plot, that it would be okay if it all just ended. Right here, right now. Tonight.

Not that you would end it or that you want to end it. But... if it did? Life was full and rambling and beautiful and complex and hard and incredibly, beautifully rich. Like the colors of a glorious photo have been turned up just enough to still look believable, but border on oversaturated. Or that they've been desaturated enough to still hold a glimpse of the magic from the moment, but much of the luster, the glow, has gone. And in life, that luster is fading. Faded. Fading. And if something were to occur to end it all in this very moment, that very moment, late into the evening... all would be well.

But you also want it to go on forever. To never, ever end. The love. The light. The music.

And that's why it's so sad. So melancholy. Because even if it didn't end tonight, now, it will someday. And in all our somedays, there should be peace.