Something saddening happened today.
Isn't it amazing how sometimes you're so content with the moment and then you see something, hear a new voice, an old song or glance at an old picture and the past which you seemingly have been comfortable distant from all this time suddenly blankets you, rattles your mind so much that you, so certain of 'happiness' a moment before, aren't even sure who you are anymore?
It's been just over a couple of years. Yet, it feels like there is a lifetime ignored safely into some old boxes of memories that'll remain untouched. But, they sometimes un-box on their own, it seems.
How the comfort of a cold evening, a rather astounding evening, having learned all the new things you could have learned in a day having been learnt, can be so easily disrupted. How could someone be so overpowered by emotions that he suddenly stops watching a tv show about some detective and novelist walking side by side solving a murder case and unraveling evidences and conclusions and surprising logical speculations from 'em and just stare outside the window through the gap the incompletely closed curtains make and look into a star and remember that star and the past and the mistakes and the joys and suddenly loose interest in everything at once? What is wrong with me? Hopefully, nothing that doesn't effect everybody else.
There she was, right where I'd last seen her. Polaris, the north star, shining just like she does everyday. There was a time when I'd stay out watching stars and mapping 'em. Reading all kinds of books, watching all kinds of videos I could find of 'em in the hope that I'd understand her more somehow. As if learning the distance between us is going to make any difference! But, you know, it does. It does make a difference. It makes me more human. It's surprising how little she seems. I live in half a pixel, she lives in half. She is so distant from us all, so distant from me. So far away form me and yet the feeling that she is there and I am here and that we will be here for as long as possible and perhaps all though my conscious life and we'll see each other and that I'll attach her to some phase of my life and smile just upon her sight and recollect everything I've lost on this journey and turn around and start it all over again and that there will be nothing else but this mere vague attachment to her in some sorts somehow makes it all better. How petty! She is a enormous ball of fire and I am nothing compared to her and yet I talk as if she's mine to keep. She's a star. No, she's a guide star. She has shown sailors the way in the past and now she's showing me, a pirate of some sorts, mine.
On a side note, I did learn of Juno Project to Jupiter today. Apparently, it's going out into an orbit around the sun then upon an entire rotation come close to us once again and then be shot out by Earth's gravity to reach Jupiter circling about its poles. That should be interesting.
