Friday, April 27, 2007

My parents will be celebrating their 23rd wedding anniversary come this Labour Day. My father however, dreamt of the 25th the other night. He envisioned a gold ballroom, filled with mingling guests and clinking glasses. He said he saw me take to a raised platform or stage, give a little speech and play for him and my mother the Elvis song 'you were always on my mind', with 'a couple of band people'. I'm never one to dissect dreams and understand the subconscious, although I am wont to say that I have a couple of years now to make that dream really come true.


I guess that song is a special song. There are pieces of music, manifestations of emotion that just constantly tug at your heart strings. They're different from tearjerkers, not fleeting and ephemeral but gnawing and aching, the same feeling you get after a cramp subsides, a dull pang that brings discomfort, but promise of relief as well. 'You Were Always On My Mind' is a heart tugger. The lyrics are beautifully conflicting, wrestling with the undescribable emotion of regret tinged affection. Makes me realize I don't tell the people I love and cherish that I do, often enough. Some have left, physically and intangibly as well. And like many a gray final year in IB night, I tell myself not to have many regrets, not to look back at this period of my life ten, twenty years down the road and go 'if only...'

I wish the title to the song was 'But you were always on my mind', where the word could, like a damp cotton bud moisten the wound and ease the sharp pain just a tad. 'But you were always on my mind' allows me to find a little solace and reprive, as if saying 'hey I cared for you although I didn't do the right thing and show it' would help numb the hurt of lost. Which is why as Elvis croons ruefully,


"Maybe I didn't hold you all those lonely, lonely times,
And I guess I never told you, I'm so happy that you're mine,
If I made you feel second best, I'm sorry, I was blind. "


I prayed desperately that he could atone, amend, or even come to terms with his guilt by telling the girl he loved,

'But you were always on my mind'.







Actually, I'm glad he didn't. Without the conjunction the titular is isolated and feeble, sad and inadequete, like an old man in a storm trying to find his bearings. Regret is a painful thing. Remorse, shame and embarrassment may sting, but regret just took heart pain to a new level.


So in short, no one can read your mind. Tell people you love them. Please?


Goodnight.
Delivered at 12:29 AM;


Name:Slumber Born:16th August


Him.K.anglo-chinese.music for the passionate.marvel.gunners. Orange.debate. long bus rides armed with an eye and a pod.74. philosophizing.dystopia. coffee.Rove.Health.Famary. Buddies. writing.1984. expression.Italian food. journeys.teh-peng. stream of consciousness. witty play on words.musing. accents.the heartrands.performing. being a closet connossieur. a point of view.vigorous interaction with spherical objects. irony&pathos.yum. JS.spirit.a girl that would smile


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