Never been into Novembers

November afternoon in Stappleton Park, from ArtRenewal.org

I don't know why
The love life of mine
Have never reached Novembers
Never
It's funny, isn't it?
Like a neat and tidy pattern:
All of them crashed, boomed, banged
in Octobers

And this is one November again in my life
A year after another
I keep seeing
and I don't know why:
love have never survived Octobers

They let me encounter end of years by myself
So maybe that I can reflect
and meditate
and think a lot
all by myself

because love,
they all ended up in Octobers

Childhood days where art thou?

Our memories are our enemies. We love them but we hate them. Every time we generate the old memories in our mind, they also generate the bittersweet feelings that have strong effects to us that we are not able to control. The memories that can sweep away the present feelings. They can overcome, flooded and stab like a knife. Bluntly, without mercy. The presence can be swept away suddenly when they bring you to the past occasions, or people, or smell, or events, or sounds, or looks, or shapes, or feelings. Consciousness and awareness of the past, maybe that's what distinguish us from animals, or plants, or organisms. We might be God's ultimate creation. But we bear the consequences much harder than other creations too as the consequence. And it is not always easy to be having a brain aka mind that keeps remembering and that is capable to retrieve the old memories and attack our weaknesses by doing it.

These are some sort of glimpses of memories from childhood that can overwhelm me at times:

• Small rock cave that we found near the vacant land, that we decorated with small porcelain statue of Mother Mary and plastic pines we took from our plastic green Christmas tree
• Small rock cave we found where a female dog gave birth and bit one of us
• Wild flowers bloomed, the dark blue trumpet with yellow middle petals
• The smell of dry soil after the first rain
• The smell of wild herbs in the morning
• The feeling of looking at the miniature model of a grass hut that I made at the left hand side of our house yard
• The sound of Christmas songs from our house
• The smell of baked cakes and cookies weeks before Christmas
• The time Mom and Dad sat with us at the dining table and everyone told stories
• Dawn time march on Easter Day
• The rain in November and December
• The flowing clean creek at the back of our old house..and the sound of it
• The angry flowing creek during the rainy season
• The sound of ocean's wave during stormy days
• The totally dark skies during rainy season
• Shallot's green and white shoots in damp soils
• Starfruit flowers
• My house models from card boards 

I miss the days. 
I miss those old childhood days. 
When the world is not hostile to you. 
When life is not complicated. 
When it's you and the big world and the mysteries around are waiting to be explored. 
When the parents are all around for you