I was living in a house of white walls. I would get lost in them, staring at them for what felt like hours. My thoughts would go nowhere and everywhere at the same time—around and around in circles they went. It wasn’t until I put up some art, something to look at, that my thoughts found direction.
When you’re searching for something, it helps to have something in front of you… because something is better than nothing. Something will take you somewhere.
This morning, I ate 4 cinnamon rolls, the kind that comes in the tube that you have to smash open. Each bite was less satisfying than the one before, but still I continued eating. The frosting is what kept me going. I got the cream cheese kind because, well duh.
Sometimes, the frosting is what keeps us there, in a good moment. Underneath the mundane reality of a singular moment, is something sweet enough to make it memorable. These sweet moments, although may be short in duration, last long and strong in our memories. Because, it’s not about how recent something happened, but how memorable it was. That’s what matters. Our life is compiled of events. Some of them are sweeter than others, and those are the ones that usually continue to stand out to us over time.
Time is something that goes, always. It will always be there, and it will always be gone, away from us. What we need to remember is not the amount of time away we are from the good moments, but the moments themselves. Because they will always be there. They won’t change, they happened. They may have moved us, stopped us, made us ponder, or made us feel. The fact is that they were there, apart of us. We forget too often about the memories that matter to us. Our present reality is not everything, although a lot of us rely on it for happiness. When we take a look back at our frosting moments, we get another glimpse of something we let live back in our mind. When we bring it to the front, we see and recognize something that continues to be a part of us. Because we aren’t just made up of this moment, but all the moments before. And we should remember that even though the past is where they live, they are still with us, always.
It’s itching to come out. Prickling at every surface under your skin. You can feel it running up, then down your body, then up again. Trying to keep it in, you hold onto it. It’s until you notice the digging of your fingernail into your lip that it has found its way out.