Above all else, I’d value a straightforward piece of conversation than one that’s encrypted and convulated, but people are wont to keep emotional matters under wraps.
If only words were easier said than sung.
And if living was a piece of soundtrack, right now I’d be ‘Memories‘ from Panic At The Disco, reminiscing in retrospect of my past year or so.
That is indeed an awesome, sparkling song from their latest album ‘Vices & Virtues’, aptly labeled, as if it’s calling out at me, and deftly lyricised too, after the band’s split.
I’m definitely liking their new sound a lot, and I can’t wait to get my hands on the full album, but as it is now, ‘Memories’ suffices.
The lyrics are blessedly gorgeous, while the music is “beautifully depressing“.
Just beautiful.
‘”He was the Congregation’s vagrant; With an unrequited love;”..
.. makes me feel so attached to the song.
“When your passion’s exultation; Then finding refuge is not enough;“..
.. leaves me stigmatised.
It reminds me of how I tried to be as transparent as I could, of how I tried being as expressive as I should, and of how I was trying to be as appreciative as I would, and yet memories are all I have in return.
Not strangely, it also reminds me of how painful it is to find out that not everyone is as transparent as they would, not entirely expressive as they could, and of how they’re rarely appreciative.
From crushing relationships to crumbling business ventures, if there’s one thing that I’ve learnt it is that there’s no harm in trying and giving it all.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s unwise to let the truth be known, like is it better if things were left to traject on their own?
I’m certainly not one for surprises, and I keep things as certain as I could, but there are things that I just can’t control.
Like how easily it is for me to succumb to my past attachment whenever she comes around at the office, and how crushing it is for me to pull myself away each time.
It took a lot out of me, as I recuperated emotionally these past months, moving forward and dedicating myself to someone else.
Indeed, I could so easly slip into her all over again, but that just foolish of me to crash and burn twice like I wont, wouldn’t it?
And I wonder if I should stop her from ‘going away’, but I wonder more if it’s better if I let the pieces of the puzzles fit themselves.
Lost love has taught me against holding back, but I can’t help in raising my walls higher this time, but I do fondly cling onto our memories, as I fail to prevent myself carving a smile or two whenever I think of them.
No doubt it’s been an educational and emotional ride for me, and as much as I’d wish for things to turn out differently, well I “Should’ve known right from the start; You can’t predict the end.”
I’m holding back, when I probably shouldn’t.
I wish someone would tell me, “Don’t hold back”.
So let me tell you this, “Stop holding back.”
‘Cos you’re denying yourself of memories of what could have been.
Rejoice.
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