EFML:Colors of the rainbow
Time is the truest ode to relativity.A week that feels like a lifetime.A lifetime that feels like a week.
I sit at my window,watching the sunset on a Sunday evening.
The color is gradually fading away.The lights are coming on.
The novel I read over the afternoon is still fresh in a my mind.A twinge of sadness,a little happiness.
A message that my crazy friend sends where she imagines things that border on hilarious insanity.Laughter.
The song I'm listening to(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HnLtNrvfZTU).Serenity.Melancholy.A connection that I can feel all the way to my soul.
A picture that a friend sent me of the food she cooked.Memories of the times when I used to do the same.
I think of three days later.I don't know how to choose.Regret.Confusion.
The picture I have of my parents stares back at me.I cannot describe what I feel.How do I put a lifetime into a sentence?
I'm past homesickness.Past the phase where every day was like a knife digging into a fresh wound.Past the time when evenings meant immense sadness.Past the time when I used to wonder if I could stay for another two weeks.A month.
I now know that I can do all of that.Stay however long it takes.Life has made me stronger.
Yet,I'm not immune to nostalgia.Do you know the origin of the word nostalgia,Dear Reader?Nostos means to return home and algos means suffering.Ironic how a word with such dreary an etymology is used to represent mostly positive emotions,isn't it?
Home.Where the heart always is.
My Mom is probably cooking.An image of dosas hot from the gridle with an amazing chutney pops into my head.If I focus long enough,I can also see myself perched on the kitchen countertop talking nineteen to the dozen holding out my plate for the next dose of her love.I can feel it so vividly that I'm transported there for a moment.My throat closes up,full of emotions I don't know what to do with.
My Dad is probably downstairs meddling in my room.While I used to be at home,I had this habit of solving the jumble(a word game with four words and a phrase) on the newspaper everyday.It used to take me a minute or five depending on the complexity.I would pester him to play along with me to see which of us is faster.But he'd almost never oblige.The last time I went back,I picked up a random paper to solve it.Solved.I kept picking out more.Solved.Every one of them.Hundreds.The entire cupboard.My eyes fill up with tears I don't want to shed.
I am all of these emotions.And yet,there's so much more to me than them.The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.Always:)
I sit at my window,watching the sunset on a Sunday evening.
The color is gradually fading away.The lights are coming on.
A myriad of emotions swirl through me.I know not which to put on paper.
The novel I read over the afternoon is still fresh in a my mind.A twinge of sadness,a little happiness.
A message that my crazy friend sends where she imagines things that border on hilarious insanity.Laughter.
The song I'm listening to(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HnLtNrvfZTU).Serenity.Melancholy.A connection that I can feel all the way to my soul.
A picture that a friend sent me of the food she cooked.Memories of the times when I used to do the same.
I think of three days later.I don't know how to choose.Regret.Confusion.
The picture I have of my parents stares back at me.I cannot describe what I feel.How do I put a lifetime into a sentence?
I'm past homesickness.Past the phase where every day was like a knife digging into a fresh wound.Past the time when evenings meant immense sadness.Past the time when I used to wonder if I could stay for another two weeks.A month.
I now know that I can do all of that.Stay however long it takes.Life has made me stronger.
Yet,I'm not immune to nostalgia.Do you know the origin of the word nostalgia,Dear Reader?Nostos means to return home and algos means suffering.Ironic how a word with such dreary an etymology is used to represent mostly positive emotions,isn't it?
Home.Where the heart always is.
My Mom is probably cooking.An image of dosas hot from the gridle with an amazing chutney pops into my head.If I focus long enough,I can also see myself perched on the kitchen countertop talking nineteen to the dozen holding out my plate for the next dose of her love.I can feel it so vividly that I'm transported there for a moment.My throat closes up,full of emotions I don't know what to do with.
My Dad is probably downstairs meddling in my room.While I used to be at home,I had this habit of solving the jumble(a word game with four words and a phrase) on the newspaper everyday.It used to take me a minute or five depending on the complexity.I would pester him to play along with me to see which of us is faster.But he'd almost never oblige.The last time I went back,I picked up a random paper to solve it.Solved.I kept picking out more.Solved.Every one of them.Hundreds.The entire cupboard.My eyes fill up with tears I don't want to shed.
I am all of these emotions.And yet,there's so much more to me than them.The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.Always:)
3 days later, everything should hopefully be fine, nostalgia always leaves you sadness & happiness
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