Then

When we were very very young, so young that life just meant today and it was like a pop song turned on in my head. We were bewildered and chaotic and clumsy and had muck everywhere and food spilled on our shirts and only knew how to join sentences with 'and'. 
With rain in our hair, the sun beckoned, and we turned, smiling. I was warm and you felt like kin. We surrendered to the outside, with a mouthful of joy that we sucked out of a straw. It was a day for lingering and lounging in the sand. You called me a wackadoo and we giggled until we were warm.

What I did today

What did you do today, darling?

Well, let me see. I woke up to the sound of hammering in my head and pulled the curtains close to stop the bright light that was hurting my eyes. After an hour of convincing myself to get up from the bed, I dragged myself over to the refrigerator, craving for some cold milk, which was surprising because I don't crave anything these days. When it's horrendously dark, I don't crave the light. When it's painstakingly quite, I don't crave the sound of music, or people talking or the sound of my thoughts. But today I craved cold milk. In my world, this marked a turning point. I decided this was some sort of sign the universe was sending my way, so I pulled on my robe and walked out of my little apartment. You'll be glad to know I didn't lock the door.

What did you do today, darling ?

Well hold on. So I walked out into the bright light and somehow managed to reach the little shop on the corner of the street. He was out of milk. I realized something about the world today, mid day is a bad time to crave milk. Apparently, most of the world has already been to the moon and back, circled the Earth three times, enjoyed their breakfast and made love by the time you've woken up, groggy from sleep. They are ahead of you. After this, I felt abandoned on those busy streets, and I shut my eyes and walked back as fast as I could. The one idea I'd had in the day and it was a bad one. The world had indeed become heavier, don't you think? Dull as concrete.

What did you do today, darling ?

Well, if you must know, I think I died ninety seven times. You haven't been listening.

Personal Histories

Time passes by in lurches, not like water out of a leaky tap that keeps dripping at a constant rate but like the winds of this city, unbearably static at times and violently strong at others. It depends on the mood of the weather and things remembered. There are those that find themselves too busy to be courteous. How could they possibly find the meaning of love ? Left only with a trace of a memory that cant be remembered, left staring at a rocking chair still moving to the heartbeat of someone who left, never to return. I always thought those brain molds were not to be trusted. Every time I step out, the first hot gush of air seems familiar, like someone's breath on a summer night - puff, puff. I try to imagine my days without this familiar, barely discernible presence, without that depth of feeling. How could I though, when it is the only thing that gets me through the day.