Saturday, July 19, 2008

Don’t Stay; Forget Our Memories; Forget Our Possibilities.

Your grandmother could die tomorrow; your father may die coming home from work tonight; your best friend may message you letting you know she'll be in Melbourne tomorrow to never return; he once lived in Greystanes, now in Westmead; once in Australia and now in Canada; life this morning, death tonight.

Our youth was our incubation period, a period where our grandparents were young enough to remain alive and we, ourselves, were to young to purchase a plane ticket and look after ourselves, our folks were to in love to split or too in love with this city to leave; it's all priced to clear now. The diminishing factor that held everyone and everything together is thinning, no one wants to see the day where they are a stranger in the street they group up in or a stranger to the friends they left back in the suburbs of Sydney.

Some of them die suddenly, some want people to tell them not to leave, and some unfortunately want people to just let them go, either way, I just want them to tell me when and where they're going and to give me five minutes to hug them goodbye and tell them that I'll miss there touch for as long as I live. Soon everyone we love that live either locally or alive, will be either too far or too dead to be reached; they'll just be gone, and that terrifies me.

My family, my friends, we're on rocky ground now.

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