Cosmic Chaos of Yesterday
Today, on my way back home, I found myself staring into the orange sunset. Tiny specks of evening dust enveloped me as bittersweet echoes of yesterday flashed before my eyes. There’s just something about sunsets that unravel lingering lies and heartaches, I thought I had long forgotten. For me, nostalgia always sways like clouds on a windy night, cautiously at first but soon driving my heart to tango. Slowly and steadily I often tread through my kaleidoscope of fragmented memories and my first few destinations somehow always make my eyes water. Whenever I look back, why do painful memories always precede the joyous tales? Why aren’t loud laughs strong enough to conquer the silent cries? Why is nostalgia always such a bitch?
As I continued pondering on the subject, I realized maybe it’s not nostalgia that’s a bitch, it’s us who blame her to be one because we love the blame game. Instead of taking ownership of where our minds decide to wander, we condemn this non-existential entity because we are afraid of burning in our own flame. When things go wrong we rather drown in the pain than confront it. We never fight it off and so it keeps coming back to haunt us every chance it gets. And that makes nostalgia a bitch.
But that doesn’t have to be the case. If you dig a little deeper behind the flurry of heartache, lie the fluffy laughs of love. Game nights with my family, all-nighters with my friends, the first time my crush smiled at me, all these memories evoke this warm-fuzzy feeling I can’t seem to let go of. And these are the kinds of things I want to write about today and roll my eyes on them tomorrow. Because knowing myself, I'll probably dramatize it all. Perhaps romanticize it even. But this is not some fantasyland vortex. Here memories ooze between the lines. I dare. I dream. I dive. And I dance. I fly. I fall. I fail. And I fight as well. In the warm embrace of yesterday, I lull myself to bed.
Every time I walk past the children’s park, nostalgic memories of sitting on a rickety park bench, licking onto my favorite grape-flavored popsicle flood my mind. Swaying on tire swings and singing at the top of our lungs, my friends and I have had some of the best times of our life. We didn’t have any bills to worry about or 9 to 5 jobs to slog at. All that mattered was the current moment and what matters today is that we don’t forget to treasure those moments. Smile a little. Laugh a little. Or cry a little. Just don't ever let them slip away.
Within the pages of the past, I hold onto someone, something, someplace, and some memory for as long as I want and as strong as I want. And I am going to enjoy every moment of it. Savor it. Cherish it. Relish it. But that nostalgic bad bitch is someone I can’t and I won’t deal with any longer. I just can't do it right now. With all the fond memories, I have a lot on my plate right now. And you know I'm quite a slow eater. Aren’t I?
Signing off,
NJ
Originally published in Strike Magazine Boston University