The Wall of Yesterday

Monday, February 18, 2013

Sometimes i wonder if he and i ever stand in the same memory..
And if that ever happened, i wish he remembered the good things i had done instead of the fool i was.. Like i have always tried to remember his kind wounded heart instead of all things that were wrong.

"When I was little, I used to write random messages on the wall in the hall way. My mom didn't like her wall dirty with my doodles, so eventually I stopped. My parents sold the house when I turned 16.

When I was little, I sometimes pictured my future house in my head. White tiny room with low ceiling, small wood window looking out to the garden and warm dazzling sunlight shining through every morning. In that room I would doodle on the wall whenever.

After years, on those walls, there would be memories, messages, drawings, dates, heartbroken notes, happy moments, changes, question marks and answers, different fingerprints and handwritings, people's lovely faces and names... When all was full, I would paint the room white again and repeat. The new wall would be clean and ready to be written on. And the old wall? No one would be able to see it again, but it was still there underneath layers of paint.

They are the walls of yesterday."

- Feb 13, 2011

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