There are times when people will tell you memories are converted to nostalgia over a period of time. That most nights are about recollecting memories, summarizing them subconsciously and hoping that something about it sticks. And then there are things we can't forget , they are a part of the nostalgia we didn't create, the parts we didn't get to edit out, retouch, change or even complete from time to time. But then you don't get to choose your recollections, and as I sat here with my friends for a festival I am attending, I feel both crowded and free, both silent and loud between the chitter chatter of the day, between the magic shows with children, in between sharing of food and live performances. My friend told me this, "...create new memories Sam, always worth it" and though I couldn't agree more I still find shaping them hard and so I write tonight to the idea of creating nostalgia itself, what if we could choose what to remember and what to forget, what to make special and the things we want to forget.
Creating Nostalgia
What reminds you of past time, of places and faces alike,
Of warm chocolate on a cold winter day, and a drink to share on a desolate night.
Who knocks at your room , who talks to you from the other side of the door?
Whose shadow finds a place, even if you are not standing there any more?
Do I create nostalgia out of thin air, do I play the song I have written in my head,
Or would you like me to whisper to you, would you like me to read it out to you instead.
I keep the memories neatly placed, bookmarked to be slept upon, to be thought about in time,
To recollect, reassess and in between, can I claim them as mine?
I wander across the star laden sky, I stand on the balcony at the edge of my room,
I write to the new memories I would choose to create, and miserably fail,
What ever we are; remains in the past, remains in times I start sentences with "how it used to be"
How I retrace my steps, through the unresolved, through my own trails
I create new memories tonight, I pull out my cards and show life my hand,
In between that which is tasteful, the tasteless and the things I taste as bland,
The planned, unplanned bits of my life comes together, I stitch my stories for now,
I create a time for me , in between those who are around I create nostalgia somehow.
Creating Nostalgia
What reminds you of past time, of places and faces alike,
Of warm chocolate on a cold winter day, and a drink to share on a desolate night.
Who knocks at your room , who talks to you from the other side of the door?
Whose shadow finds a place, even if you are not standing there any more?
Do I create nostalgia out of thin air, do I play the song I have written in my head,
Or would you like me to whisper to you, would you like me to read it out to you instead.
I keep the memories neatly placed, bookmarked to be slept upon, to be thought about in time,
To recollect, reassess and in between, can I claim them as mine?
I wander across the star laden sky, I stand on the balcony at the edge of my room,
I write to the new memories I would choose to create, and miserably fail,
What ever we are; remains in the past, remains in times I start sentences with "how it used to be"
How I retrace my steps, through the unresolved, through my own trails
I create new memories tonight, I pull out my cards and show life my hand,
In between that which is tasteful, the tasteless and the things I taste as bland,
The planned, unplanned bits of my life comes together, I stitch my stories for now,
I create a time for me , in between those who are around I create nostalgia somehow.
Yeah, you did create nostalgia...
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