High school poetry

Probably my favourite piece from high school.

Photograph

I see myself for a moment suspended in time

A frozen image of my life at its prime

Coated by a thin glass frame

I wish things could always stay the same

I see the tale that my features belie

Hidden by this great disguise

I paint a content expression on my face

So perfectly that it can't be erased

I see a backdrop littered with useless drones

A crowd for which no feeling resides

A scene which manages to ensnare the past

And capture it so that it'll always last

I see those who weaved in and out,

Those whose friendship only made me doubt.

Yet there is one observation I did not yet make,

Perhaps the only thing that can't be fake

I see the only person who's shared my laugh

Beside me in this photograph

The Reason

The past is something that has always fascinated me. It simultaneously motivates us, condemns us and reminds us of our mistakes among other things. The past is something that always exists in our minds but just how real is it?  I read a very profound line in a novel once which went something like:

 "When it comes to the past, we all stack the deck." 

Which basically means that, at one point or another, we've all altered our memories to remember things in a different manner. I think this is most noticeable with emotions. Sometimes we try to be tough and not remember ourselves being as frightened as we really were during a confrontation. Or perhaps, upon ending a relationship we try to convince ourselves that we were never really in love with a specific person. It's actually extremely disheartening to think that I might actually be manipulating real emotions with false ones that are seemingly better to remember. I never want to forget the truth, no matter how mundane or ugly it might be - and that was my initial motivation for this blog. Sadly, the vast majority of people don't even reflect on the past but only worry about the future without wondering how they arrived at the present. I don't believe my life is defined by a few key events but rather incrementally by the actions I choose to make everyday - that's why I'm obsessed with having a record of my past. And that's the reason this blog exists.

Death

Today is probably one day in my life that I think I'll remember. It still seems pretty surreal. I used to think that the most comforting thing about life was that people/objects were continuous in space and time. If that's the case, why is it possible that someone who you were just heard on the phone a night ago can then turn up dead by such a random event the next day? I don't understand it. I'll probably never understand it.

It bothers me that there's no reason to rationalize why things like this happen. We see death everyday on the news, but we don't really see it. We don't really believe it in our hearts how much it hurts. Humans are selfish. We have such a limited emotional range and can only really seem to care when tragedy falls right into our lap. I keep asking myself, how can such terrible things happen? Is tragedy the only common thread in all our lives?

I'm scared about getting older and dealing with the deaths of ones whom I love. I guess you could say I don't really believe in the conventional idea of Heaven, but, when you really see death, one begins to really wish and hope that something like that did exist. If you try to just accept the world as it is, you'll simply find what seems like a random, aimless, cold mess without any order or meaning. So, why am I here? Why have I survived but others have lost their lives in such meaningless ways? I wish I had the answer to these questions.

It seems almost cruel to go on without fully believing that people can be killed and disappear from our lives so easily. It's not difficult for me to move on - I know I have tons of extra things to do in order to keep me busy but...how can life really be so fickle?

That's all, really. The discontinuities of life are truly terrifying. Why can't people slowly die or fade away asymptotically...instead of being here one day and gone the next? It's just so hard to imagine...

Poetry 2

Probably written about 4 years ago. 

City Heartbeat

I gaze down at the constellation below

And I see the jungle they illuminate with their glow

Stretching out to the very corners of my vision

They guide weary eyes through this concrete prison

I see lonely cars moving slowly along

Trying to fight their way through an endless throng

Inside, there resides passengers lonely as well

Unable to connect through this metal shell

However, regardless of all the beauty in this scene

It's nothing more than a collection of machines

All that's left for us to cherish beneath this sky

Is the silence of a world gone by