Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Photographs
I think this is the shortest short I have written. It is also one of the hardest cuz I dun noe how to write it. I dun even noe if it is good or whether it makes sense. Anyhouse it does say what I'd been thinking for a long time. Wellz, hope you'd enjoy this one. EHz I noe the story quite Emo. Some parts I take is from my memory and some from my fantasy. But the story is still fiction. Yeps, enjoy.
Photographs
There she was all adorned in splendor, I will never forget how she looked that night. I gazed into her eyes as I stood mesmerised there and then. Her long flowing gown with a divine aura of beauty that simply beguiles all the young men touched by her grace. I held her hand through silky long gloves that covered her delicate and ethereal hands so soft that it brings comfort to all it touches. Through her winsome smile she blesses all that turn their eyes her way. These memories flood me as I held those photographs in my hand. I love her so.
Three months has passed since that enchanting evening of magical song and dance. The bewitching evening is now but a fraction of my memory and it lingers on there leaving me completely spellbound. All my life I have spent imagining the most wonderful of nights and now that it has come and passed, I can only say that it was much better than my imagination. The difference between reality and fantasy is that in fantasy, there is a lack of details and also there is a script. You may deny this, but often in our fantasies, we know what is going to happen. The sad truth of memories is that as time passes, they too become lacking in details.
I looked at another photograph of the beautiful times we had. It was a photograph of two sleepy people hand in hand sitting by the light of the moon. We were happy as can be doing nothing together. The photograph was taken using a hand phone with its low resolution. Although the picture is blurry at some places, it is still possible to distinguish our smiles and also the backdrop. We were there by the fountain where lights shoot forth and burst into a spectacular myriad of colours.
Fantasies are beautiful in that it is not reality. We can often defy all rules of nature and make our own. Our world without pain nor decadence, a world thriving with loveliness and live. Reality is such that it is hard to create a perfect moment as everything is susceptible to chance. However, there is something else that can create a perfect moment in the most unplanned circumstance. Memory, on the other hand, is often that which we hold dearly. Whatever that is most emotionally intense, they become remembered with greater assurance, though they may contain false traces of magic that resulted from fantasies.
I remembered by the waterfall when she looked straight into my eyes and asked me, “If I fall into the river, would you come and rescue me?”. That was the most intense moment in my life and I remembered it with absolute vividness. Being a fool, I tried to ease the tension by joking about being inept at swimming and such. With anger and eyes that burn through the soul much worst than brimstones, she glared at me. “You'd better”, she said. Not wanting to lose this perfect moment, I said, “You know I would.” Then and there a grin lit up her face and no words was spoken.
It's been three months again. We have gone our own separate ways. Strange as fate have it, that I carry these photos with me. I met her once and showed it to her then. She couldn't recall. Everything seem to be just a fraction of my imagination.The photographs I have have also begun their toll to time. Every detail seems sketchy, everything captured slowly seeps out its borders
Now I ask, what is the difference between what is real and what is imagined. Fantasies and memories of reality, they all seem to blur into a fuzzy twirl. If in the end, everyone forgets what had happened but you, and that you seem to be the only person affected by it, did it really happened? Can you affirm that it is real and not just another imagined story?
ahBoey blogged
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9/05/2007 10:16:00 PM
