A moment of bliss

Looking out through the window I can only see the top of the trees piercing the blue infinite ski. The sound of birds, chit chatting with one another fills my ears and makes me drift away in thoughts. As I bury my mind in the bitter sweet memories of my adolescent years, I’m put “face to face” with one of the many remainders for the person that I am today.

I slowly reach my headphones and press the play button. It seems as though Breaking Benjamin still holds the better part of my heart up till this day.

…

The anger fills me from the inside out, bringing me to the brink of exploding, just like a time bomb that was carefully planted there to ruin everyone near me and myself in the process. I try to grasp the little bit of self-restrain I have left and calm myself down but nothing seems to work. I can’t even remember what set me off so quickly. I desperately try to grab something, anything really that it’s near me so I can just throw it off to the side in order to calm myself. I see a comb on my bed and think that it is perfect, it’s the right tool for me to brake but not to break me. I make a reach for it and throw it against the wall. When I see that nothing really happened, I became even more infuriated. I collected the green comb from the floor, from where it laid like a numb limb, and throw it more aggressively this time. The satisfaction that flooded my senses at that moment was glorious, but truth be told, short-lived. I picked the remaining pieces from the floor and disposed of the broken thing. Its absence mocked me in the days that followed, reminding me of how weak and powerless I really was.

…

Not wanting to dwell on the memory too much I change the song, but as my playlist hasn’t been updated since I graduated Highschool, I’m faced with yet another of my “depressive” songs, this time from Michl, specifically Die trying. This summarize one of my fazes when I took a liking to somebody, and failed miserably in the end. I once more press the button to change the song and finally, a gem starts to soothe my dull heart. Tell you what, I don’t mean a thing by Quickstep, really does put you in a better mood. Now I’m taking aback by the smile that makes its way up onto my lips. I press pause and rapidly stand up, looking for a bit of space in my room. I take the headphones off as I prepare for what I’m about to do, exhaling and inhaling a few times to put a leash on my excitement. I press play and it happens. I’m once again on the stage, ready to show the world what I’ve created. The choreography comes naturally to me and I just enjoy the moment, not wanting for it to end. I laugh as I stumble a bit trying to dance without a partner, but everything seems to fade away to this one pure moment of bliss.

The song comes to an end and I’m bewildered to comprehend just how much I missed dancing and being on stage. The next song starts, one of Jessie J’s and lucky me, it’s another one that I used to dance to, so my momentary sadness dissipates as I start to go over the choreography.

Although, I know these fragments of light may shine just for a brief second, I cannot deny the fact that we, as humans, do the exact same thing. We all are, as our memories, ephemeral, so I’m grateful for every chance I get to grip and hold onto my specks of light from the past.