Leapdragon 2016 - Aron Hsiao Was Here

bewilderment  §

Bewilderment lies in between temporal islands of certainty and gives life its color and also its untimely shortness in some cases. Funny to now feel what other people in my life have felt in the past, when I didn’t know how they felt.

I say it often here, but I may as well repeat it: I’m rotten at keeping up with people.

Life moves really fast. Too fast, even. And none of your favorite things lasts longer than a moment; they are favorite memories after all, less favorite when you are doing them than when you are not. That paradox of life is a kind of ecstatic misery, the endless nostalgic lust for what isn’t right now but once was now, and the continuous quest to recreate it, only to watch it fade again.

The line between hating being alive and loving being alive isn’t a line at all. It’s an equal sign, an equivalence.

on the way back,
on the subway, the track,
between the lights in my eyes—
that flash—and flash—
are lexical fields
of empty **s p a c e**.

i study these palm lines,
read into them dreams—and—
my future divined,
step off once again
into present, into time
as though i’ve never had a ride—
on the highway of lights
in the tunnel—
the tunnel
of shadows.

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