Tuesday 28 April 2015

songs to make up to



There are three kinds of change - that which jangle in your pocket, that which happens gradually and that which blows you away in an instant.

one day I came across Ta-ku's latest release from his EP, Songs To Make Up To, and I remembered how exactly one year ago I was in the same place, in the same period, listening to his previous EP, and then everything in between the two points just flashed in quick succession behind my eyelids. It caught me completely unaware but I suppose it made sense because there was a small part of me that is still grieving. When we speak of change we can dichotomize it in terms of gains and losses; when others mention about "losing", "letting go", I contend with that notion because loss implies a possibility of finding it again but I won't. Some things just stay dead and gone. perhaps its better that way, but what do I know.

in this part of the story he would sit across the floor just as he always did

sorry he says.
it's okay, she says. sometimes things we don't understand happen and it just does.
i know, but still. he looks at her with tired eyes and traces the opening of the beer bottle.
please forgive me, i'm so sorry.
don't be, it's my fault too, there's nothing to forgive, she says.

I opened my eyes and I am overwhelmed by this inexplicable sense that I've just experienced some long, forgotten dream. I packed up my things and hiked my way back to my room. I think I cried a little, but really I'm okay. Some things are beyond our control.

They say the cure for anything is salt - sweat, tears, and seawater.
I threw myself into work, I grieved and cried about the should-have-beens and maybe I might just find a beach somewhere where I can just be.
I found a tiny beach house on a secret reef off a small island, off Lombok, off Bali. It's a small slice of perfect paradise and I might just pack up and stay there for a while. My post-finals plans are still up in the air for now but if I can spare some time and money to do it, I think I will.

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