Written on April 15, 2011
Do you have those moments when you are itching to do something? And you know that all it needs is one final snap but you don’t know what it takes to do it. So you search.
You really don’t know what you’re searching for, and it bothers you so much that all it takes is one simple thing, it’s just that you don’t know what it is yet. You know what you want to do. You know you want to do it. You have the urge, but you don’t know what about. You want to write or draw or work til your fingers bleed but you won’t mind because wow thank god I did something productive for once.
And you want to get there, to that moment of productivity. But you don’t know what it will be about. So you look around – perhaps for inspiration, a spark, to ignite and flame your soul and start your engines.
It’s only been a minute, but it feels too long. You walk around, you randomly open drawers. You look inside letters. You get carried away. You float around, lost in the wilderness of your own thoughts. You forget that you were looking for a spark. Instead, you find needles and buttons that made you remember of the first time you tried to sew. You find love letters from long forgotten lovers, and you reminisce the good times. It makes you emotional. You find test papers, notebooks, doodles, pictures, pins, pens, and you remember fragments of memories about each and every one of them.
You remember how you always kept them near you, you remember how they used to feel in your pockets, in your hand. You remember the first time you bought it, the first time you found it. You remember the times you spent with it, you remember the days when you still had it. And somehow, you remember the people you correlate with that material. Perhaps they borrowed it. Perhaps they were the ones who gave it to you. You remember their faces, you remember your glory days with them.
But you cannot for the life of you remember how you drifted away from them. You cannot remember the time you stopped using those notebooks or pens, nor can you remember when you stopped talking to those people. All you can remember is those days, and the days now.
Like how you know blue and green are side by side but you don’t know the line that separates them. Like how you know there’s day and there’s night but you don’t know the exact time that differentiates them. Is it exactly at 6pm? The way you differentiate morning from noon and night from early morning when the clock strikes 12?
What’s the exact moment when it all changed?
Hours passed. You still can’t find what you’re looking for.