Running Away

If only our minds can feel and our hearts can think, then we would all be able to make sense of 'love'.

I honestly deem it a social vice - it shatters all rational thinking and compels us to do things we would otherwise deem absurd or ludicrous.

It is love that makes us hold on tightly to what we believe it. It is love that stimulates the illusion of hope - hope of a better future; that one day, the sun will shine again; that tomorrow, everything will be alright; that eventually, everything will fall into place.

I've finally come to accept that everything is transient, and that permanence doesn't exist, not even in memories.

Some people have told me that memories are what we are made of. They are fragments of our past experiences and existence. The photographic images stored in the centre of our heads will remain with us wherever we may go. Someone once said that if she were to enter the afterlife taking only one thing with her, it would be her memories. They are said to follow you wherever you go though, strangely enough.

But memories break down and vanish from existence once you learn to let go and forget. You are no longer enslaved by their dominance over your mind, and you are free to start anew. Memories hold us all back from moving on; we bear testament to that when we recall each painful moment that sets up the roadblock signalling for us to stop and pull over. We can no longer move on with the excess baggage. We need to shed it, and flee. Run, without turning back. There is no turning back. Leave everything behind; all that was once happy, once pleasant; once enjoyable, and run.

Ironically, this post contrasts everything that I feel inside. But I've come to acknowledge that my time is up. Like Elrond says to the Hobbits at the end of ROTK, "The time of the Elves is over, it is now time for the dominion of Men." My time is up. It's now a new calling for others to play their roles, while I sail out of Rivendell, out of existence and memory, fading into eternity.