My two notebooks have come to an end… Pages filled with scribbling, half sentences written in hurried, illegible handwriting, dark butterflies on the margins… Lists, random quotes, words underlined for future pondering…
The year in Richmond is in these notebooks. Two summers, fall, winter and spring… From the very first “Give me a day…” to frustrated “How long it takes to get better…” to affirmative “I need more definitions” to shy “I love you” to trembling “I’m afraid of randomness of circumstances” to reminiscing “this time last year… ” to wistful ”if only… “ to airy “I’m happy like I’ve never been before…” to restless “I have to go and see…” – this has been the year in Richmond. How ironic that both notebooks would come to their end when my stay here is coming to its own end…
I need a new notebook…
Yet I am reluctant to get one, just like I’m reluctant to write these days, as if I’m afraid of what might come out, afraid to voice what I do not want to hear, lest I wander off into a territory that’s better left untrodden…
My days are filled with little tasks, small deadlines, chores, must-do lists… I concentrate on them one at a time, trying to live in those moments, stay in those moments as long as I can, aware of every passing minute as seconds tick away… My days are full… My heart is full… at night my dreams are crowded… prophetic…
I still haven’t found what I’m looking for in the Golden Notebook… And yet, I’m at awe that the book still has that strong hold on me, just like I did when I first picked it up when I was barely eighteen, not knowing that the book would change me, shape me like no other book would… The divided self – in four notebooks, in hopes of bringing it all together in one unified golden notebook… I think of all the notebooks that I’ve left behind, scattered bits of myself left here and there…
I need a new notebook…
It’s August yet again.
I’m leaving the new notebook for everything after…
No comments:
Post a Comment