Take a peek at what I write every day:
Each month, based on what I read, experience or listen to, I give myself 10 prompts and write 3 short proses on each (give or take). This one is part of On Piano, a prompt for January
I used to have a younger self that saw the world better than I do:
I knew more about physics, less about mathematical conceit; I recite pictures on the fly, picturing even “abstract” itself; I had friends, sharing true fear and affection; I lived between the worlds of nature, mapping my mountains and stars and clouds… Those days are not in the slightest shorter or longer. Those endeavors are not in the slightest easier or harder. Every day so far that guided on my path here, I lived through them; I marched hills and rivers; I skipped over trenches of misunderstanding; I survived through a naive lack of knowledge and descended into the absence of light.
Things memorized will never get lost – sealed crates in my brain, I doubt whether I can crack open them too soon. Still, I cannot go back: I no longer take fiction for fact, dreams for gaucheness and possibilities as essentialities; I cannot go back: do I yet cherish memories as if they were still to happen? Picture senses as if future were not engulfed by the tempestuous current? Refill losses as if I never left to live the moment?
I cannot go back; there will be no regret on unopened boxes, everything was done to perfection. Trees’ night’s murmur, and in my distant window’s outside blur.
Welcome back, me, in this Serenity.
More lively, more obscure, you saw the world better than I could.
Jan 4, On Piano #1
And of course, because it’s about On Piano, here’s a relevant piano composition, which I am practicing: