Day 352: Corners

"I guess we all have our own corners" I was thinking out loud. As I said those I felt how true it was in the reality of things, in the open nature of the world we live in. This is not to say that we live isolated in these corners, neither to imply that we close ourselves but to imply we have our own sides to take sometimes. That we are all in visible corners we can all see, we have thoughts we believe, arguments we understand and music we play in these spaces. While it might be a bit naive to try to understand the world as though fragmented when we rather wouldn't, I would like to think these corners are our closest selves that we share with one another.  So I write to the same, out and aloud, thought.

Corners
So we sat on the floor with invisible chaklines
You had your side and somehow I had mine
We each had corners we, even though we didn't decide
While I looked for the spaces that lay unassigned

These little moments that our memories keep
When we smile at random and maybe sometimes weep
These that have touched and formed who we are
Closer than a heartbeat and yet seemingly afar

These shades and colors of the outside sky
While I stare at the myriad, I feel time passing by
Corners that cut close & that are closer to the heart
That are simply reasons, whether close or worlds apart

I will meet you where your mind retreats & we will paint again
Draw sketches of an empty boat, and these we will frame
Why some thoughts that echo deep remain in still waters for now
While we all sit in our corners and figure out the world somehow

Day 351: Fading Light

So though the sun was setting at its own pace, the little glimmer of the light came into my room meant I was following it through the spaces between the window shutters. It was chasing the fading light as the day got longer and wishing for more hours every single day. I have not written for quite a few days now, trying hard but being pushed and pulled with to do lists every single day. I tell myself this should not feel like work, it should still feel like writing, as simple as that. Fading light discusses the idea of our love for contrast and the capability of finding something in all its aspects. As I slowly begin to feel a little better again, I want to capture the fading light as though trying the insane.

Fading Light
I have left the planning and telling of tales
Embraced the wind as I have sometimes set sail
Been clear as the day sky and cloudy too
Rained as the hours pass and sky turned back blue

For I have sailed these winds that blow

Seen parts of me that I do not show

For some things lie uncaptured as it must
I may have lost faith at times but not your trust

In the in between of things little known
I will learn from these pieces that help me grow
While the rest remains unplanned in my mind
Waiting for instructions that it hopes to find

Be just like this wind tonight
Not troubled by the fading light
So that these little things in the day remain
Like loose pages of a book on the floor as they lay

But embrace too; the dark

With its marching half,

The promise of a new light

An excuse to blaze a new path

Catch new winds and write new lines

Day 350: Mr Salesman

Think about being a Salesman for a day, collecting and selling memories back to yourself without charge. Just making the case to reflect back to the little things that you have left behind, maybe nostalgia somehow, maybe pieces you wrote that you don't remember anyone, doodles on the sides of pages or even pictures that speak to you without frames. They are pieces that are kept on displays only in your mind, and yet they are reminded by yourself, the salesman who sells memories back to himself. Who are you waiting for keep going back to the same door, I am just collecting memories scattered on the floor.

Mr Salesman
Mr Salesman and the keeper of dreams
You seem to be selling the world within
Things that aren't on catalog pages for now
They are just on sale from you somehow

Dear philosopher of ages and doodler in my diaries
You are words and sketches that are set free
You are on walls of my mind , like museum pieces on display
Moments where I haven't grown & still get to play

Mr Salesman you are different, like this other side of me
You are my collection of vintage & black and white memories
So you sell them back without price tags in place
Just reminders some rainy days and across some nights

Are you still collecting things to keep
While I count the hours of the day that I dream or even sleep
May intermittent at best you come to my door
While I keep looking back at the things for sale & some on the floor

Mr Salesman you are in the old and the new
You are simple things I try to remember & piece together too

Day 349: By Now

The idea of shared time is unique in some ways, it is independent of planned attempts at being together since these can be moments in your thoughts. While we all get to experience this and wish for it, it is in fiction that is often inspired by real life, that we get to experience it. We get to blur the lines between these notions of fiction and fact and get to relive a few in our heads. Whether we change our comprehensions of things as they are right now, these times that I do not possess are yet alive just like me and written like the rest.

By Now
By now you and I must know
That some things must move & flow
Like ripples in a lake in still waters too
These are things that change for me & you

I seem to be able to hear the dog whistles for now
I am listening intently to unspoken things somehow
They are written in my diaries as I turn the page
They are living free of time and age

By now you must know that I write these songs
Keeping alive the memory of lyrics that are gone
I find solace in humming them during the day
As do you somehow, in the back of your head

You and I on some mornings at home
Will share a cup of coffee together, while being alone
While some will say these are fictions we write
Sharing space and time but only in our mind

Day 348: Smiles at Random

We seem to smile at random sometimes and no matter how inclined we are to think that these are always planned and situational, some of the most memorable ones are the ones you don't think about. Is is the sunshine on a cold day or maybe a memory that came loose and found their own way, maybe a song that came in the back of your head or just a tired mind smiling as you lie in bed? I am amused and amazed and as I find myself watching cartoon reruns on my screen I am smiling perhaps remembering how amusing things were and have been. I like the idea of being able to dig for nostalgia and I also value the randomness when it finds us and makes us smile. So this one is for the smiles at random that have made it to your and my face

Smiles at Random
As we pick and choose hours of this day
I lay claim to a few that come our way
These lines and edges that are in your & my hand
Maybe our roadmaps to familiar places where we land

Why do we smile at random, as we travel alone?
Or stare at the blank screens on our phone
Why things that flee are the ones we wish for to stay?
Our hopes and dreams and stories that come our way

I tell myself that in the back of my head
You are my best of chapters that I have read
So I write a few drafts of my own just in case
Maybe become a few characters or find my own place

These mystery machines and cartoons I never forget
I still keep them as sweet nostalgia in the back of my head
As the little bits & pieces of me travels back in time
I look for a smile, without reason or even rhyme

Day 347: Parking Lots

Probably one of the most random places we miss while going through our day are parking lots. These vast array and spaces with parked cars , some that leave and a few that come in to replace their space. No better example of transitivity among the non living , and yet something that is purely tied to the idea of being calm, being at rest, being parked even if for a bit. Something more permanent even if momentary within that changing nature of these places. Such as some thoughts that come and stay a little longer, that have been known to reserve places and some that like the unclaimed ones collect tickets and refuse to move. For now inspiration truly comes from the strangest places, probably the quieter ones, probably the empty ones at best.

Parking Lots
You are still in my head, like a parked car
Unchanging even if for a little bit, right where you are
These sides of the car door I hold open for you
I am wishing for these thoughts that you have let through

I am puddles of rain that you splash as you slow down
You wait for a while or maybe you sometime turn around
Drive around tirelessly till the end of this day
Without road maps in your heads, without a place to stay

You are still the paint on the sides, the details I rarely miss
While I am the wind on your windshield trying to steal a kiss
Wishful thinking as the song on the radio get loud
You are whispering to me, while I hear the whole world shout

You are still in my head and parked in a parking lot
You are thoughts I remember, even if chances were I forgot
Still places on land , just places to lay down and sleep
Maybe nostalgia that is too sweet and yet the only thing you keep

Day 346: Just Listening

There is a weird connection between those who listen and talk. There are those who feel compelled to do either of the two and then those who are put in situations. I have been late in choosing the last few writings as the year draws to a close at least in a blog and I have no excuse but that I have been trying to listen to things that often do not speak. Whether they are the mood of the day, the rain outside or the often long stretches of hours sitting on a chair. In the quiet moments, I am trying to make sense of the things I claim to know for sure and some that in time become fonder and more expressed. Maybe I am on repeat like the records on a loop but I am listening to you as I write a few, tell me you are talking back too?

Just Listening
To me, you are among the only things I know for sure
You are waves that I can touch and feel on the shore
These things that want me to slow the day down
Not knowing how to keep them for long or even around

So I listen to you like old records on a gramophone
When I am in a crowd but maybe feeling alone
While the lyrics and the music they blend in the rain
We figure out our own address or from where we came.

Just listening for now, to whoever needs to talk
Trying the long road home, with more time to walk
As I mellow just a little bit, trying to pour my thoughts
Strong drinks that stay on the sides of a paper cup

I am dog-eared chapters, folded up in a magazine
The ones you get to read when you find time in between
While the world may need to talk, I listen for now
Writing more chapters, wishing to be bookmarked somehow

Day 345: Memories of a Dream

Sometimes the most comfortable thing to do is to not make plans. It is in accepting that there is something beautiful about finding things as they happen. In the moment of these quiet and restless inspirations, we are able to write, draw, sing and sometimes simply be. All I sometimes need is the feeling that the lines between dreams are blurry at best, maybe these are memories of things that are yet to happen. Maybe wishing for things or maybe sometimes accepting time as it comes to you, in perfect packages of 24 hours and yet feeling they are never enough. For now memories of a dream is what I wake up with, maybe even act upon. After all, we are storytellers as we write stories everyday.
Keep dreaming and tonight enjoy just an extra hour of sleep if you may :)

Memories of a Dream
The alto and the tenors that in my head they play
While we sing some songs, that in our memories stay
We are doing our best, dreaming what we need
Finding our winnings and never accepting defeat

The paintings on a napkin page or writings we exchange
As though codes in a hidden language that only we can create
While the cold days refuse to let go of us; for now
You are still the month of May, I am stuck in April somehow

Memories of a dream we remember so clear
Things that feel so true and the ones we hold dear
Then again, we are day dreamers & realist alike
We are singing as though on stage but without a mic

These days that are somewhere in between transitions
Between thoughts and some restless inspirations
We are unplanned at best, we are somehow at ease
Hoping for more memories, in dreams when we sleep

Day 344: Unwinding Down

These periods of warmth and cooling down seems confusing at best, when all you want to do is crawl back into bed, sit with a cup of hot choclate and maybe read. If that picture is making you hungry enough, think of the smell of coco filling up the corners of your face, and your glasses they fog up. Imagine sharing something warm in the cold outside, whether they maybe nothing more than simple thoughts that I may write about. They maybe inspiration over the fading sunlight, they maybe a long walk home waving goodbye. You are tired too I know, waiting for instructions from your heart your mind, come rest for a bit, maybe just for a little Unwind.

Unwinding Down
These flowers in the winter days, they refuse to bloom
So I write all morning and into the passing afternoon
I grab another slice of life that comes in a box
Instructions not included so I easily get lost

I am wishing for a warmer place and you are somewhere too
Keeping at the things both you and I need to do
Staring up from the faint glow of my white and blue screen
Asking the hours as the day it fades, no matter where I have been

I stare at my phone and then quickly back to work I go
Maybe you have written to me, I am curious to know
But in the wind she blows and "Chicago" plays in my head
I am sleepy in bits and pieces and my eyes are quietly tired red

I am time periods we listen to, stuck in maybe the "Holocene"
It is present day after all, right here where we have been
Listen to the wind outside and keep coming back as you need
In imperfect ways write something only you and I can read

Day 343: Our Stories in the Wind

Once in a while, you will have a walk that hits you as more than meaningful. Maybe it will be something about the idea of getting lost , not knowing where to go or even the notion of watching the lights fade across the sky. These are inspiring no matter how close you get to putting them down and scheduling them , these will be the random ones when you don't decide the when and where.  I like to believe on this windy day that there are ideas that come and go, and as it gets louder outside I think of songs we hum in our heads. To some of the most perfect evenings that we can find, and moments when all you want to do is simply hit rewind :) Find a windy city of your own

Our Stories in the Wind
Come build me a story, let me stay
In your thoughts & memories let me remain
You are held close to me as I am inspired
I keep coming back to you when you are not tired

To see what I may have missed in days & night
What has but gently slipped our sight
When we have walked to places & found them new
These moments that flee and the ones that are few

I tell my obsessive self, that obsession is in short supply
So I keep collecting feelings, hoping they will always survive
I am rationed thoughts maybe few that do change
While I find my ride along and my life it seems rearranged

In the housekeeping this weekend I smile without reason
I keep wishing for Spring at the end of winter season
For in the wind outside they may come and go as they please
Let me just write to you, knowing in time you will read

Day 342: As Needed

Ever felt nervous because you planned something or thought about it too many times in your head? I will be honest, that for now that seems to be the state of my mind. While getting into the specific nature of the problem is irrelevant it makes me write more connected to reality than ever, describing these anxieties that keep me on my toes for today. I think of these moments as reality that comes to me as needed, it does not announce itself, neither does it feel the need to be validated. For now I am in the quiet that surrounds me and you as I keep writing

As Needed
These moments of quiet anticipation
I am unplanned plans in your imagination
I am nervous about things I do not know
But for now, I will be confident or so I will show

Have I written down things I need, I will learn and unlearn
In the hours of the night, I hope I keep walking without turns
For I am easily distracted but not with you
I am listening in the quiet as the night, it mellows

As though stories of the book that comes alive
I am hoping to fall short of nothing that the night writes
I am fact looking for fiction, I am reality if you need
Just wishing for an endless conversation, to listen & pay heed

These moments that flee, they are much too shy
They are just like me, learning how to be human sometimes
Uncomplicated, undefined , you bring me to ease
I am learning to find comfort in just "you" and "me"