Ephemera

I am really no good at farewell. But this, this will be a continuous farewell. I could get used to the death of beautiful people over and over again. But it is impossible to forget shattered fragments moment after moment until they cannot find themselves again. Some mended, some broken, some momentarily abandoned and some changed permanently. I cannot be changed. You know how those people you met in life and you open up to them because they are your person, letting them in so intensely and deeply because this is all they have to offered and what they have left nakedly, nothing else, and then they are gone permanently? She completed that inside every inch of film, like there’s something in the world which nobody has seen yet. At least, I felt it that way.

I cannot understand but I will embrace them. 3 months. 9 months. Perhaps, perpetually. Because they will be more to it.

I dare not imagine of the future now. Because the past is officially an unfinished story, waiting to be deserved.

It’s not emotional. It’s science.

—

To She who left me the indelible marks on storytelling, Yasmin Ahmad.

And to Siti Nadrah who wrote beautifully, its an ephemera confession. Just like a mayfly.