In between the writing tasks I’m supposed to be working on, I sometimes find myself absent-mindedly going through my old blogs, including drafts I thought I had discarded. This includes the Notes feature on Facebook which I just finished browsing now (because I found out that someone actually plagiarized an old blog entry. Honestly, why?). As I was adjusting the privacy settings of each post, I came across a poem that dated back to 2010. I didn’t have the heart to delete it. It was such a beautiful reminder, one all too familiar; one that didn’t sting as much as it used to. There I was, feeling like I was floating on my back, eyes fixed on flashbacks of survival, foolishness, innocence, despair … all of which brought about the poignant and dreamy tone of those carelessly scribbled lines.
So much for completely obliterating the so-called fragments. I do keep these things close to my heart now, especially since I have learned more than I bargained for. After all, “nothing ventured, nothing gained,” right? Anyway. I, then, snapped out of my daydream and watched the gear icon change to a padlock as I tweaked the settings, keeping it locked away, as certain things are destined to be.
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” (F. Scott Fitzgerald)