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silentrain
Chipping away white paint. - Subscribe
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Today I realized that I had never looked at the ceiling of my parent's bathroom. It was grimy, I decided after a moment, finding that not one better word came to my fried mind. In one corner it was significantly darker than the rest of the already off-white speckled ceiling before it exploded in random sparkles all around the small, enclosed area. A coffee-like stain splashed in ripples over the mirror that had miraculously survived crashing into the porcelain sink- and succeeded in breaking the sink in two. I wondered for a moment if one of my parental units had stripped the ceiling bare without my knowledge, and what I was looking at was merely the remains of a once fantastically painted part of my house I had never discovered. Again, I thought of the strange patterns as some kind of story. But this one, I couldn't figure out the ending to... or if there even was one- or a beginning, for that matter. I still don't really know what possessed me to look up at the ceiling of all things tonight, and more so why I pondered over it for so long. The only logical reason embedded in my brain is that for such a period of time, I had always been looking down at my feet, or simply straight ahead. An article shone on my computer, talking about how scientists were working on a drug... some sort of procedure that would allow humans to get rid of memories they didn't want. I stood there for a moment, not being able to breathe; much like the reaction I got after watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Only this time, the futuristic procedure was becoming a reality. I wondered if those scientists had ever watched that movie and saw what could occur when one fools with the mind. I figured not. When life was breathed back into me, I felt angry. Here we were, stuck in the twenty-first century, and scientists were more worried about erasing memories than finding ways to stop the diseases that cause fragments of the mind to disappear forever. So, what would you rather have? The ability to erase every slightly bad memory that could teach you a lesson? Or the ability to stop your memories from erasing themselves without your consent before you find yourself unable to even remember your lover's name? Every time I opened my computer, I used to find a random desktop picture there, blaring something amusing. Until I switched off the randomosity factor. Now every time I open up my computer, I see the words 'Let Go!' in bold white lettering above a dead dandelion. And tonight, I looked up. Change. |
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silentrain
Wishing on fading stars... Aug 27th, 2007 9:38:16 pm - Subscribe
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The moment my mother returned home from her first trip to Paris, she handed me a necklace. It was simple and elegant; a black band that held a beautiful silver star at the end of it. And the minute it joined the other two necklaces that rarely ever came off, I decided that it would be my wish necklace. I figured that, instead of buying a five dollar wish bracelet, this necklace would hold my greatest desires, hopes, and dreams. Its durability would insure that my ultimate wish would take a while to achieve, but eventually, the thread would have to break. That was over two years ago. The necklace has grown old with age since then, as now all the silver it once held has faded to the copper it was originally sculpted out of. The thick band that it once had is now nothing more than a thin thread with one chunk of it's former self threatening to dissolve on the left side. It no longer looks very stunning. In fact, most people probably think that the little star is quite ugly now, and might just pause for an one hundredth of a second to ponder why I decided to wear it in my senior picture. Today, my wish necklace broke. But not in the way I expected it to. The thread didn't snap, the star didn't fall off and get lost. The strange thing was, as I went to put it back on after a rejuvenating shower, I noticed that the clasp was gone. I freaked out, immediately searching through everything on the ground and by the sink with the speed and skill of a roller-coaster heading into the final loop. But all my searching was to no prevail. The little clasp must had fallen down the drain, or embedded itself deep in a corner, snickering at my futile attempts. After a while, I gave up, placing the now unwearable necklace up on my bulletin board so it would never get lost. It hit me then what this all meant. My wish necklace was broken. Which meant, just like the bracelet of the same name, my greatest wish was going to come true. Yes, I did smile at the innocent thought, even though reality was screaming at me for believing in something so childish. But I simply let out a sigh, touched the now empty space between my two other necklaces where the star had once laid and went on with my life. Did my wish come true, you ask? Well, we'll see. |