All You'll Want To Do Is Go Back There

There's a chance you've walked in this forest before, even if you don't remember. I know I have—in fact, I've been here many times now, you could say it's my second home. The trees give their luxurious and calming smell that takes me back to the olden days. I like my memory forest, the small recluse in my brain that I can go to any time I want to remember fond memories.

The forest overflows with fog, making way for a different kind of ambience, and suddenly, I realize how much time has passed—how far I've gone. Is it better to live forever in the past? Or let it end and enjoy what we had before it overstayed its welcome? These are the kinds of things that keep me up at night. I could ponder and wander forever, but I know that it must end, and the first leaf of the forest starts to disappear…

🎶 I'm whistling a tune, my only calling card. A tune that I know in my heart. There's a whisper from you, won't you kiss me once too? I think that it's going to be a mighty fine day. There's the sun in my heart, the clouds gone away, I think it's a fine, fine, day.

Cause you're here with me my lovey dove. There's nothing we can't do. I'm whistling a tune, a tune from my heart, a tune that is just for you. 🎶

I don't know how far I've been walking, but with a song in my heart and my two working legs, it doesn't matter at all. I'm happy right where I am, and life could never be better.

These days, time feels exceedingly long—a bit bleak sometimes. The echoes of the past beckon to be recalled, whether it be a misplaced object or a special someone. Yet the longing for time to pass has its pros. It means being in the now, with the ones I want to spend it with. A friend, a family member, or a pet.

The loss of time gives it more meaning, as calming as a fishing trip on a little boat, travelling through the infinite ocean ahead. But these times don't last long, and I'm left with the echoes that remain, denying that their time has left them.

I fear I may be fading away

The day is on for a new opportunity, a new adventure that can await. Yet it feels like I'm on a lonely path that stretches far ahead of me, and into the unknown. Why must I be lost in isolation? Was everything I built for nothing?

The forest has lost some of its trees, or at least, it looks like it. I don't wanna think about it though, it's not a major cause for concern. No, for the first time, I feel a sense of unease.

The fog has turned an unnatural green, the sky has darkened. I can barely see my own two hands, much less the horizon. I don't want to move, I don't wanna go, yet my two legs take me further in. I walk around in search of something, anything that breaks the mundane and repetitive green fog and redwood trees, but there's never a break from the recurring visuals. I don't know how long I've been walking. Hours? Days? Weeks?

I feel so disoriented I can barely stand, I want to scream yet it feels like my mouth has melted away. As I collapse to my knees, exhausted and without any other options, I notice a carving on a tree. And then I realize that I've been walking in circles the entire time…

Day 21?

Unknown Date

I don't remember how many days it has been now. Every day flows seamlessly into the next, with no notable events to differentiate one from the other.

Night and day, dusk and dawn, here and there… A revelation came to my mind as I sat down on the chair I always sit down on when pondering, my "thinking chair".

In all my studies on the brain and how it works, nothing scares me more than memory and perception. It's very interesting, frighteningly so, to see how perspective can be manipulated, or differentiated from another perception.

When we realize how fragile our memories and understanding of the world are—if we knew when we would lose them. You would savour everything, and suddenly, ordinary things you never paid attention to would hold extra value to you.

Nobody truly realizes how important something is until you lose it. A world without its experiences means I lose the bliss I had once, a barren cavern as barren as the moon. How I wish I could just go back to that naïve bliss that surrounded me.

To that moment that slowly fades from memory, where I didn't have to fear such things. But is it better to go back there and never let it go? Or was it better to let it go before it had overstayed its welcome, a rosy retrospection that shatters once I relive it in its true form?

rating: +6+x

All You Want To Do Is Go Back There was written by NebulaEclipse_NebulaEclipse_ with critique from FerranteFerrante, AequilibriumAequilibrium, and Generic3Generic3. The images used in the article in order are: A gloomy forest shot I took today by u/Enginear_to_death, and Gloomy Forest by Javon Cormac.

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