About a year ago, I wrote:
"Sometimes, you think that everyone's leaving you, passing you by, but perhaps - you're the one who's leaving everyone behind.
But it doesn't matter whether it's a free choice which you have made or otherwise - separation, or the parting of ways, is inevitable. It's a very real and nasty ending, where even a bitter and painful renewal is not guaranteed.
Maybe that's why I like records and vinyls and photos so much - I'm foolishly in love with the past, and anything that will preserve those discrete moments, I'll hoard them till the end of days. Growing fat with the treasured memories of my time in London, which I adamantly refuse to let go - until the day where time and old age decide to steal them away from me.
Breathing it all in, I can already see the rippling of the bittersweet sepia-prints."
Here I am, in the future that I had gloomily foretold in that past entry. Not all that different from what was prophesized, but (unexpectedly) different enough, that I'm learning to come to terms with the trinity of truths, the torment of finality, the hope of renewal, and more.
So much more.
And I smile for the girl who I was, a tenuous smile that's tinged with heavy irony.
You see, time and old age are one step ahead of me. The performance of "Ten Million Bars of Musical Rests" has already started! But there are, and will be, other compositions in the works. Such is the nature of life - or so I think, and will have it to be.