There's time when I reflect on the past of my life, no, not a past life. If I could reflect on a past life, I'd want to stay and see how it plays out, not that I don't love the life I live, but it'd intrigue me. I do reflect often on friendships, the early years of Maria and me, the earlier times with my best friends, and friends that I don't see as much during these weird times. I slip into my time machine of mind travel, try to mentally envision a timeline, a historical-tim eagle-timeline, albeit just in my head, and float. There's times when I'm talking with my daughters or sons and pinpoint a memory to talk about. I often envision them on the other end, dozing off, because some of those memories would induce a sense of boredom to someone who didn't live them. I keep going anyway, it's fun, and I enjoy imagining their faces and rolling eyes as I start, all of which are obscured by the cell signal connecting us.
One night after a long, caffeinated, rant with one of our daughters, I wondered if my historical timeline will ever mean anything to anyone, other than me and Maria. I answered this question with a hard, "probably not" and laughed. I attempted forming an invisible timeline with words, out loud, my eyes half shut, remembering a memory fingers moving in the air like a magician, creating more confusion to me and Maria as I spoke, blurring anything that ever resembled actual events.
One thing that does help with that invisible time travel, is music, it sparks a certain memory and here I go again, overthinking and sprinkling some symbolism in for good measure. I'm a huge rock and roll fan, and saw some concerts in my day. I also loved to listen to the radio, a place that played about three songs, had some commercials, a radio disc jockey that would introduce music, rinse and then repeat. They existed and they were how I was introduced to the world of music, both new and old. Now, children have to listen to the same repetitive shuffle on a streaming app and if they aren't absorbed by their own phones or own musical taste, may just ask their parent who they're playing. I remember when we couldn't look up lyrics and some of those metal bands being played sounded like they were speaking in tongue, which often they weren't, but in our sometimes rage filled youthful heads, it sure sounded like it. If you didn't own the album, you couldn't see what the words were. No apps allowed.
I've strayed off course, not making a great point at all, sorry. My historical timeline means a lot to me and one day, I just may draw one out, write a story about it, sprinkle in some of those words and symbolism, make it juicier, add some fiction and make it interesting. Thanks for stopping by and having a glance. If you'd rather see my mug on youtube, head over to Dark Nest Travels there and check me out. Maria and I both love to travel which often sparks some inspiration in my fiction. Talk to everyone soon!
No comments:
Post a Comment