Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

So Hani's Shrine of Honesty is closing, and change is inevitable. She's off to find her new blog-self, and change is constant. The only freaking constant is change, and for all my upwards dynamism and enthusiasm, I swear I still hate it as much as I did a few months ago. Change is necessary, but it's also the one we put off the most. Change. The red pill. The bitter medicine. And there's no Mary Poppins singing how a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, medicine go down, medicine go down.

Somebody once asked, do I have some change for gas
I need to get myself away from this place
I said hell what a concept, I could use a little fuel myself
And we can all use a little change..

I am melancholic. Have always been like that, but for some reason, more so tonight. I am lonely. Ditto. I am confused. Repeat second sentence ad infinitum. I miss you, princess.

A while ago, I wrote about a memory palace: a place where I put the most treasured of my memories, where as the ravages of time (and probably Alzheimer's) attack, peeling off the onion that houses my recollections, I will stay, drinking in the sights, the sounds, the smells. A little taste of heaven goes a long way. And so I greet oblivion.

I miss: the voice when she asks me if it's okay to go to her favourite coffee shop even though it's late, that look on her face when she's asking me to skip a night class so she won't be home alone, the way she frowns when she's stuck with some horrible research assignment. I miss: her voice singing Celine Dion's I love You whenever she takes the stage, the way she tucks me in at night, the way we fight. And I miss: the look on her face when I come home, the intent look as she digs into her latest book, the way she always found a way to hook her leg around mine in the middle of the night.

I miss you, princess.

Come this 17th July, it'll be 6 months since you left. A lot's happened since then, and I've never stopped missing you. I look back at the earlier posts on this blog, and I remember what it was like. Some people DO actually read it now, and I guess the blog's changed too. Like me, it's still trying to find out who it is, and what it's supposed to do. In the meantime, I guess me (and the blog) will just have to improvise..and adapt. Can you believe I've actually got a clubbing thing for this Friday? I know, I can't believe it either. I remember how you had to use wild horses to drag me anywhere last time..am truly sorry about that. I was scared, nervous, shy..and I still am, princess. But I grit my teeth and remember how you used to squeeze my hand and tell me I'd do fine, and that there was nothing to be scared of. And then I'd remember that I'd still be nervous, and talk too loud, or too fast.

Growing up's pretty scary when you're all alone.

To those of you who follow my ramblings regularly, I apologise for the lapse. Thank you for staying with me this far. Come tomorrow, the regular posts will continue, and the Insane Ox travels on.
Good night, everyone.

Good night, princess.

HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Yeats, 1899.