Growing up or Growing Old? Or just growing apart?
These are probably most descriptive of everything that we ever go through in the years that follow. We understand that growing up isn’t measured in age and birthdays, but is measured in circumstances, events and encounters. We learn to embrace the growing old is beautifully tragic- or beautiful and tragic. You understand why your parents never really tell you their age and you laugh when your age is asked. Its strange, stranger even to realize that ‘What goes around, comes around’.
You grow apart, from inanimate and very animate objects. You learn to leave some people behind despite the fact that they didn’t actually do anything wrong; almost like shedding skin. You carry some people onwards regardless of all the bullshit that they have put you through, like grey hair and dried flowers. You are now dripping with love and loss, hope and opaque screens and doors that never open and books that we never look back at, and colours that we never really reach out for anymore.
You realize that you have built gardens in others. You have planted careful seeds and watered your plants and you are waiting for the flowers to bloom but the goddamn weed just never stops. And sometimes, you leave your gardens there; within others. You leave your seeds waiting to bloom and your watered plants never to be watered again only to understand that gardens need to be grown within not without. To understand that flowers grow inside of your body and never in any one else; yes you can hand your flowers to someone once they have bloomed inside you but up until then, they are Yours.
Build your own gardens and take care of yourself before you start chasing the next big thing, Stop losing sight of the little and the minuscule because that is all there is. The big flashing lights and the neon signs and the dollar bills; they will all fade and so will you; from body to manure, from person to mud and all you will ever regret is not paying attention.
Aqoosaa 