Tuesday, October 4, 2011


I miss his voice speaking in the distance as I wandered through the shelves of worlds waiting to be discovered. (As was I.)

I played hide and seek with my heart in the aisles. I hid from confronting what I really wanted: him.

As October approaches again, my thoughts drift like dead leaves into a pile at one place: his feet.

(I wish...
Why didn't I...
It's better...
this way

It's just October sweeping through me with an incisive wind of near-sadness & almost-regret; bringing to the surface all I let drop.
Soon I will be able to let these things fall into the opaque waters again; but first I must remember, I must embrace each recollection: the barbed and the sweet. (Each one has been gilded with a sheen of significance they do not deserve.)
I let the words of old diaries pour over my cheeks, I try on those secret smiles again. (They still fit.) But more often than not they wrinkle into winces and I remove them with a sigh.

These things: I want to remember them because Common Sense is standing nearby and soon she will shake her head, tell me to put them--to put him--out of my mind again.
Bravely, I'll uncurl my fingers, let these cherished things sink and nestle in the arms of the depths. (All the while knowing perfectly well I will fish them out again. Perhaps too soon...)

...Definitely too soon. Already I've retrieved one or two: just my favourites! Please allow me those! I dry them off and place them in a box. A mahogany box that keeps secrets as well as my own heart; they're safe here, yet accessible. I am content.

(I just ignore the arrows Common Sense aims at my head. Their blows have grown as soft as sighs over the years, anyway. For she knows I don't care, and any effort will be wasted. She keeps on trying, though, and I admire that. Still, I will not forget for her; I cannot just yet.)


Been feeling nostalgic lately, for it was October last year that signaled the beginning of a strange and horrible year that would turn me into a girl I didn't recognize. (A girl that still sneers at me when I look closely at my reflection.)
Of course, this piece focuses on one of the highlights of the year, though one that caused as much stress as joy (a stranger who happened to be perfect). Here's hoping this next year heals instead of harms...

I am happy, though, for it finally feels and smells like autumn! My mother asked me the other week what autumn smells like. I said the first thing that came to mind:
Dead leaves and blooming hopes.
Though it was random at the time, I now realize: my hopes are blooming. All sorts of wonderful things feel possible in the autumn. Which is a sentiment I expressed during spring, I believe. It's true for both seasons, though! No wonder they're my favourites.

{1st image found here, 2nd image is my favourite painting, 'Eleven AM' by Edward Hopper.}


  1. "Dead leaves and blooming hopes"
    Oh yes, very true :)

  2. I certainly hope the coming months and year will heal you, love. I must admit, your post did stir a faint feeling of excitement at the prospect of what mysteries lie ahead. Ps, the first picture is incredible! Somewhere I wish I could be right now. It tells a story without using any words. As does your favourite painting; I suppose that's what makes it worthy of "favourite" status.

  3. Imaginative piece! The artwork fits it perfectly.

    I was thinking the same thought today while I was outside--that it's starting to smell like autumn. Only slightly though, can't really smell leaves yet, more like just the crispness in the air.

    Wishing you healing, love, & blooming hopes in this coming year. :) :)

  4. E: I'm surprised that the first thing that popped into my head was so perceptive, hehe. :)

    Thea: Thank you, dearheart.
    I thought it was incredible too! I'm rather put out that I can't find any information on it, including the name of its creator. And that's one reason I love Edward Hopper's paintings so much; they brim with wordless stories.

    Jade: Thank you. :)

    We don't have much leaf smell either, yet. But we definitely have that glorious crispness! Our leaves do tend to take a while to start, um... dying. (How morbid that sounds!)

    Thank you so much, dearest Jade. <3

  5. This left me (almost) speechless. I'm balancing between silence and speaking. You see, this piece is like a knife in the back to me. Being nostalgic, opening a door that I've not only locked but hid within the deepest dusty corners of my heart is something I've avoided the best I can ever since summer. I made a promise to myself in June, after I locked that door, to never open it again. There's so much I don't want to remember. And I, and Common Sense too, have worked hard to keep my mind off of those memories. I'd say Common Sense and I have become allies.

    Oh but now I'm tempted, so tempted. I can't help my heart, it holds everything much dearer than it should. So many things are indeed gilded with a sheen of significance they don't deserve. I'm thinking about having merely a little peek.. But I know all too well how impossible it is not going any further. I really want to remember, I want to bathe in the sweet waters of reminiscent. But I think it's too risky. You see, I never know when to stop. I'll drown eventually. Remembering what-was and what-could-have-been saddens me so since it's all gone already. I've found a way to keep balance between melancholy and happiness and it is by not looking back to what's already gone. It makes me mostly content. But I have to admit, as time passes I begin to feel hollow. I'm still not sure if it's worth it. Maybe we reminiscent for a good reason.

    Uh..sorry for the novel. I'm hoping next year indeed heals more than harms.
    And autumn indeed smells like dead leaves and blooming hope! I've never quite got it right but finally someone did. Also it finally smells and feels like autumn here too. I feel like October is filled with hope and chances. I just wish I'd have the courage (and time since I'm slow) to take those chances.

  6. i want to know the scent of Autumn. Even for once. In my place, it smells like Christmas. Does it smell the same? *sigh*

    I hope you'll heal very soon, darling. <3

  7. Jessica: Oh, don't apologize: I loved your comment of epic proportions. I am fascinated and surprised to hear what doors my words involuntarily opened.
    Common Sense and I have a tumultuous relationship; we argue a lot, but at the end of the day, its her opinion that counts. Maybe we can be allies someday, as well.

    I could not advise you for the world, since these matters of the heart and of reminisces are so fragile. Whatever happens, I wish you all the strength; strength to either not become overcome, or not closed off.

    Thank you, dear. I'm slow and unbrave when it comes to taking chances too. Maybe... we can hope for change this year? <3

    haze: It doesn't smell quite like Christmas, though certainly just as pleasant. Someday you must visit in autumn so you can learn its marvelous scent!

    Thank you, dear. <3

  8. Beautiful and artistically abstract. I love October but fears what it may bring (Nov). You expressed that feeling of longing and sadness.

  9. Thank you so much! I too fear what comes after October, though I am thinking of the later winter months. Let us hope they do not bring the things we fear. :)

  10. I love this. 'Dead leaves and blooming hopes' is a perfect description of Autumn. <3
    Autumn for me is always a combination of sometimes-warm-and-sometimes-cold nostalgia and the sort of slightly-adventurous feeling before the climax of a story.

  11. Thank so very much, darling Lumina. And I love your description of what autumn feels like to you! "...the sort of slightly-adventurous feeling before the climax of a story." What a perfect way to phrase it!

  12. Those secret smiles, I try them on too, I relish in how well they fit yet when I glance at my reflection, my world shatters.
    The autumn air scratches my throat and drags in my lungs, it is filled with anticipation and longing, it is in these endings that we find our rebirth. Perhaps this is what blooming hope feels like.
    With love x

  13. I understand the cruelty which can be brought without even the least of expectation. It's rather like pinpricks, endlessness of being ripped and sewn in waves of transformation,each one far more significant than the last. But I have the most faith that we shall emerge all the brighter from it, you are a beautiful soul, always keep going.


  14. Heather: Hello, darling! I've missed seeing you around! <3
    Oh! Secret smiles are such funny things, the pain they bring seems to far outweigh the joy.
    That is such a powerful description! Perhaps it is. :)

    Jhordyn Ashley: Yes, yes! You put it so much more poetically than I ever could. Oh, I hope we will! No, I am certain we will. Thank you, jewel. <3

  15. "I let the words of old diaries pour over my cheeks, I try on those secret smiles again. (They still fit.) But more often than not they wrinkle into winces and I remove them with a sigh."

    Wow, this is a beautiful post! I love the little story beforehand, and the image fits really well with it. I do agree that it's sometimes strange to look back at diary entries and try to match them up with your thinking now. I like reading my diaries from elementary school - I was still a shy kid, but I loved how blunt I was in my writing, haha.

    Yes! It's autumn! I still can't feel it, though my calendar says it to be true. I hate that in FL, there is no autumn. I wish I would find a pile of leaves to fall into :)

  16. Thank you so much, Kim! Hehe, old childhood diaries are an endless source of amusement for me too.

    Boo FL! We don't have any piles yet, but perhaps instead of sending our bags of leaves to the dump this year, we should slap stamps on them and send them to you! It's a pleasant dream, anyway. :)


Silhouettes of a secret. A story told over a cuppa. Or perhaps just sitting on that stone bench, basking in the moonlight... and not saying anything at all.

("I can no other answer make but thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks." -Shakespeare, Twelfth Night)