It's midnight. My nerves seem to be all excited and hyperactive. I already arranged my closet and threw some trash I saw in the room. What else was left to do? My night stand. I'm not quite sure if it was a good decision to clean the clutters I continue to mess with anyway. But with all my nerves not wanting me to just sit and read a good book, I decided to arrange it anyway.
Now this is the exciting part of seeing old piles of papers. I found an old envelope with quite thick bunch of bond papers with lots of writings (something that looks like this haha). I couldn't help but read through the pages again. Yeah, this one was familiar.
Year 2005. An old story. Good heavens how I have always loved narrating stories, mostly my own. It still makes me grin alone, being refreshed with everything that happened in the past. And there I was too preoccupied by the pain and miseries as I always called it. Now there's no point in denying it, I still got those pages to prove how feeble and shattered I can be. That had a really sad part and I still find myself sympathizing with that girl in the story - me in 2005.
Having quite a "record" of such significant events has its own benefits by the way. Well it gives me a shake to what has already happened, and repeating the same plot of the story is quite boring already. And damn stupid I'll label myself if I'd see another few pages in different time frames indicating similar stories and the same old feelings of helplessness. When can I ever learn, huh?
Another set of envelopes within that brown envelope I found. This one's a school envelope, two different school envelopes. It gave me a sudden shiver. It didn't have the usual emotional tales I used to have that I can just laugh about once again. This time, I didn't write this one. They were given to me a few years back.
Year 2002. Should already be called historic, don't you think? Both contained printed poems. Some confession of pain of losing someone and some declaration of a creed of love. Both didn't have my name on it, though; but I very well remember those instance how the dorm security guard teased me while handing me the envelopes. Reading the poems again made me smile. Not the grin I had awhile ago, rather it was a smile of a sad missing and I still am wearing that smile right now. Back then, this person meant nothing more than a stronger. And it amused me, receiving such kinds of letters from him.
Year 2007, present. My nerves aren't hyperactive anymore. At last I can start making some sort of sleep to brush away all the feelings brought back by those two silly envelopes. Having found them should barely have any impact on me. Not if there was something else that happened in between. And my peaceful nerves do not want to entertain any other thoughts besides the warm feeling I already relished upon reading the letters. The other part of the "something else" would just spoil it anyway.
It's been 5 years now. Who would imagine that some untouched piles of seemingly trash would make me do another page that would add to it? Indeed, old files bring back memories. Some you'd be happy recalling. Some would just tear you apart again and again. Some would just make you sigh.
And so do songs. You bet I'm listening to some song right now. I somehow have the notion that each song represents some significant stories in our life, or a certain person. It's like I'm being read with the stories I keep and forget for a while then relive again. I guess I never learn. I can see another me, version 2007. I bet I'm gonna laugh at myself 5 years from now when my nerves start to become too excited again to make me sleep.
But for now, I know I would play the same old song, until I find a new one.
Inspired by: Utada Hikaru