Arrache-moi les yeux

Arrache-moi les yeux

Originally uploaded by Clara Zamith

Dear Flavianus,

Today I was invited to a birthday, but I couldn’t go because I have a midterm to study for. God bless, everything will be just fine. Also, I didn’t go to the party, because the pomegranate tree doesn’t want to meet the fog. She doesn’t want the fog’s tears upon her bark again.
Yesterday evening I accidentally found dad’s old violin in the attic while I was searching for my hair-iron (I wanted to do those 30s waves). It was an inspirationally amazing moment. My dad used to play that violin when he was my age. I suddenly imagined him on stage with his short curly hair, 80-styled glasses and tall skinny figure concentrated on a tune, his eyes fixed on the strings, eyebrows down.
The violin is older than me, I realized, so I touched it with awe. It smelled old, a very familiar old scent.
The violin is now in my room with the strings broken but still too charming. I showed it to mom, and we decided to mend it and give as a gift to dad to remind him who he was before becoming a lawyer or a dad, to remind his old passion for music, his talent.
Mom said it would be too sentimental. Mom recently is too avoiding concerning touching and sentimental moments with dad, she is afraid of that awkwardness and coldness that has crept between them.
I once feared that the winds would separate but now I think it would be for the best.
I changed the theme of my room by the way. No more heavy red. Now it’s neutral. But my walls are waiting for some paintings by me. Soon, I guess.
I have to go study now, Flavianus. Take care.

Listening to Coldplay _ A rush of blood to the head

~ by rainjazzed on October 25, 2009.