I went to Fete De La Musique last night, part of the annual French Festival celebration, this year in El Pueblo. Going through the crowd was exhausting. There was actually heavy traffic from too many people gathered in one place. I was able to get passes, though. I used it to take some pictures of them musically-inclined artists performing onstage.
It was fun, especially seeing some of the artists I've known since my first few months in college. It's just sad that I wasn't able to take their pictures because I was not feeling well, and going from one place to another was really, really tiring because of the crowd.
Twenty-four hours later, I find myself back in my room. Rested, but not completely well enough to do the right things...(sheesh, thesis...)
I felt that one person whose made this perfect importance in my life right now is beginning to disappear; how faint this person I fear would be with everything that will happen. Every bit of detail that connects him to me is slowly flying away in search of new aspirations and anticipation.
It just gets crazier, and darker.
The only light in this room is coming from my monitor, and I've been using and looking at it for the longest time I forgot how the rest of the room looked like. I turned around and realized that there were different shadows sealing their places on the walls. There was a lighter shade of gray that played near the edge of my curtain blinds, and the shadowless space beside my computer where the monitor is not pointed at. It's insanely compelling, knowing that this might last for months. Years, even. I find it uncomprehensible; how everything can completely turn around after the first hand of the clock hits the same number again...
but I can never grasp, and yet forget the pain of someone leaving, and the agony of waiting.
There's no end to this tale, nor this entry. Just the cycle of going back and starting [writing] anew, or dwelling on the emotions that liveth the same melodrama.
