The Collector

I have learned to make a collection; out of all the things I have unturned like stones over this year to discover their secrets. I have filled myself with people, memories, stories, feelings that passed so quickly, ones I never felt before, and never want to forget. The silence I have built within myself, some soft humming that keeps me safe and content when I am alone. The way I have learned to unravel all this, these sunsets, and places, and people, the ones I miss, and the ones I will miss and the way life seems less confusing, as I fill it up with meaning. I have been searching, for meaning, and this year I have learned that life should be built of such beautiful moments, when two people share true human connection. I never want anything else but that. All I have of this year is nothing concrete, but some pieces of stories, scraps of poetry, photographs, conversations, and all those people I have shared something with.

"There was this also: a secret sense of the enduring, about all the nights, the rainy summer nights at twelve and one and two o'clock when the seats endured alone in the empty theater. The enduring is something which must be accounted for, one can not simply shrug it off."

The Moviegoer Walker Percy