Creative'ink of the week By:
Dhouha Tlig a 23 year old ambitious engineering student, born in october 1994. Besides her interest in her field, she has been developing a predilection for art and literature growing up since childhood. She has a lot of hobbies:Reading books,drawing,interest in music and theater,learning different languages,sports... She is more likely to be the introvert type, but she likes to share her stories,thoughts and writing with others.She enjoys listening to people more than being listened to. She is one of the many people who want to live a calm and peaceful life through reading books.
Between nostalgia and memories
Memories…are all what I’ve got after all these years…
I guard all my precious memories of him and keep them locked in the inmost corner of my shuttered heart .I put them there with photographs, cuff-links and every trace left of him…
I choose the most perfect memories of him and cling into them …no I would never be able to choose between them because I want them all, because in every moment he was the person he should have been, would have been, had it not been for the stress of life.
That corner is their coffin and I set them to rest with the same reverence as my beloved one passed on.
Unfortunately, I can neither go back in time nor can I contemplate that gentle smile printed on his face, I can no longer cuddle his silver hair tufts nor can I look fussily into the finest details in his face...
In every single corner of our old house I can see something golden and sacred of him that I want to keep forever.
Although the memory has neither smell nor sense, but why his scent can trigger all the deepest memories and make them flooded in every piece of me.
Maybe I can’t turn back the time but at least I can turn it off for a few minutes when I can forget about everything but him, when my memory spin around carrying my soul to the farthest point of my past folds until it can spin no more.
The sun is still shining brilliantly and the jolly color of the spring day under its glare still offensively bright and cheerful.
It was as if they conspired to show me how the world would go on without him. It shouldn't. Everything should be as grey and foggy as my emotions, it should be cold and damp with silent air.
But, while struggling to hold back my grief, tears flow steady, silently down that pale face of mine, feeling coldness, emptiness, walking between memories and nostalgia although he is already gone...
I keep wondering why that dump soul of us is unwilling to acknowledge the finality of death...Maybe it’s because we are never going to see their faces again or feel their embrace…
Like those swings, I am keeping those memories…
Like those swings, I am keeping those memories…
Like those swings, I keep swinging in full motions when I am surrounded by people, but when I am left alone I just look as lonely as them…
I just noticed how much we are alike…
Dhouha Tlig
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