Songs can really rewind us.
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Songs can really rewind us.
Isn’t it funny sometimes, the things that our brain decides to retain for us, without our conscious choosing?
Our first convention, I forget the exact year but it was at least two decades ago…
Memories of those I hate
Or hated
Still walk into the room some evenings
Looking, somehow, as shocked to see me
As I am angry to see them
…
Upside down it waits
Dried bundle of stems and petals hanging
Under harsh incandescence
No longer meant for this place
Blooms given near full year past
…
Like dried hanging bloomsKept fondly for far too longHow hard the soft turn Dried memory husksCrumble with these old flowersAt my lightest touch (Related: Free form exploration of the concept — Dried Memory)
I can’t see anything looking forward. It’s blank. Unknown. I can only look backwards, on what fuzzy bits I can remember.
The meanings of refinement
Include to purify, to reduce
To make more fine or polished
To make elegant or cultured
I have a mind programmed
To cultivate all the data, to gather all
That could ever
Possibly hold any kind of significance
At any point in the future
You could reasonably imagine
Warm sun and cool breeze:
happy-tears polish four eyes,
stars elusive found
(I’m so happy that you’re finding your stars, M.)
They must remember the loving-kindness, applied with fearless compassion.
A stream of consciousness response to a powerful empathetic connection with a dear friend and their fear.
Separate lives
Separate experiences
Briefly
Somehow
Empathy connects
…