woke up feeling a tad blue in the morng. then thot, let's dig in and see if i have my 'wizard of oz' with me. it's been one of my "happy books". along with alice, peterpan & d ilk. checked on books on table. checked in closet. not there. nearing panic, checked in "book corner" *yeah, i have one in my house*. checked in d storage box also. *yeah, u guessed right. we don't have a bookshelf anymore. the old one was emptied & kept on d patio to gather some sunshine. it got soaked in d rain.*
damn! where was my wizard of oz?? "home, in a 'safe' place. with most of your other books." piped up Voice-in-Head sarcily.
maybe it's the day that's doing it. maybe the distance. maybe just age. these days, with me, it doesn't take much for a passing thought to cascade, inadvertently trip over itself, multiply in magnitude, sulk, scream out intense emotions and eventually morph into pure nostalgia.
and so it was, with not finding my Wizard of Oz. at that instance, i knew what i longed for. no, not "books". no, it was nothing tangible. nothing material at all.
i missed the trail of my life. hoarded carefully. sometimes randomly, usually impulsively. over d years. every little detail. every moment. every association. it all amounted to something. or so i liked to think. small incidences and instances that i'd brought home to seek refuge with me that became permanent residents without me realizing it. sometimes, forgotten soon after getting them home. but always available. at-hand, as i like to say! always there when u reach out.
i miss those pieces. those symbols of continuity.
but no sooner did i think i knew, than did Voice-in-Head pipe up again: "what continuity? continuity is a myth. just like forever. what was, is only what you remember of it. your interpretations. shared memories. individual perceptions. and what 'is' is but illusions on the horizon - adaptable, malleable, infinite. reach out, get them & see what you make of them."
and as suddenly as it had piped up, Voice-in Head silenced down. moved on, maybe? leaving no trace that it had been there. that moment. in my head. except, of course, for me. and my perception *knowledge, maybe?* of me having heard. and may i say, comprehended.