im still waiting here, waiting for you to come sit by my side and take my hand, and walk me home..

it seems ages ago when we last sat together and just watched the blue sky turn to orange then finally to a deep purple. that was years ago, and we were both too young, we didnt know any better, or maybe we knew too much then.. i dont know anymore. i never knew anything. you were the wise one. i was the scribe.

time has a way of blurring images, making the past seem like an illusion, and the future, a distant dream. if only i could conjure enough images of you, of us in my mind, then maybe i could bring you back, maybe i could bring us back, and we can continue where we left off.

but, where exactly was that?

one moonlit night i went out to look for stars that may have lost their hold on the great dark sky and decided to fall and graze the leaves and branches of my neighbor’s backyard

from the bushes, i picked one tiny drop of sunlight and whispered: “hi”

it flickered ever so slightly and looked as if it was abashed to be seen in such a frightful state. i lifted my palm encouragingly and said: “dont be afraid, im here to help you find your way, where did you come from? wher are you headed?”

but the star having no ears could not hear me, it wept silently, the way a child would after discovering he is lost, and he has gone a long way from home.

i sat down on the grass and pondered the situation that my star has gotten itself into. yes, i know im being presumptous to call it mine, when ive only just found it, and i dont even know what to do with it yet, or if somebody else owns it, or worse, what if it is one of those things which cannot be owned?

pushing aside my own introspection, i tried once more, this time i put my finger on my lips as if to hush its weeping, then i pointed to the moon lazily resting on some velvet clouds which chose to hide the heavens – where my tiny friend fell from. “home” i said slowly, clearly, “is that where you came from?”

and with a sudden rush of understanding, it blinked once, twice, and nodded its head, “g– o- h- o- m- e” it tried to utter in broken syllables, ah! my star wanted to go home, we have progress, at least i now know where we’re headed, but how could i reach the sky and put this star back where it once belonged? a seemingly impossible task, i thought, but like all problems, this too must come with a solution, though not yet obvious right now.

i pulled out a piece of torn paper from my coat, and gently wrapped my quivering star in it, i replaced it back in my pocket and walked slowly.

how do i reach the sky? do i build a tall ladder and lean it against a giant tree, then climb it painstakingly till i finally reach the top? how would i know if it is high enough? do i make a giant balloon made of hot air and let it lift me up till i can touch that place where the horizons meet? do i ride a boat and row myself to eternity hoping i will somehow sail through the end of the seas and fall off the earth and touch the vast nothingness of forever?

carefully, i took my star from out of its hiding place and laid it down into the cold ground, i laid down beside it and watched the distance between us and our destination grow by leaps and bounds with my every blink,

…and this is where i am right now.

it was raining again this afternoon when i went out, i cant really stay sad when everything else around me, even the weather, is gloomy. im not really sad though, im lost. and this loss confuses me, until i no longer know what to feel and how to feel.

this place is covered with black and sharp and stinging things, i cant stay here and wait till they come to life and choke me. i want to run far until they all fall out of my head into a place where things are pure and honest and real.

these days, writing has become too difficult, its hard to wade through words and pick one out from the herd and paste it down on paper without cutting a piece of my skin. everything hurts, and i dont know where the hurt comes from. does it hurt to be lost? i really dont know. when you’re lost, you’re afraid, afraid you won’t find your way back, when your afraid, you are angry, angry of the unknown, angry for not knowing. but where does the hurt come in? why this aching feeling that grips through my heart like a claw?

tonight i will step out of this building, not knowing where to go, even as my feet involuntarily lead me back to that place i call my home. this city moves too fast, and though i can run with it until all things around me become a blur of unfeeling, there is really no point. because one day i will have to park, and when i do, im afraid there will be noone there to sit quietly beside me and share my stories.