Light-hearted Memories

Memories are like Owl City songs: light and airy, a little strange, but they know how to tug strings on your harp of emotions. You kind of just daze around, drifting, staring at an old photograph, good quality, and imagine your thumb prints on the edges of the frame. They stick out, sharp, to remind you clearly that this is the past, don’t dwell on it. But the soft, matte colors, light fading, the smile, oh the smile. It all washes over you, giving you a tidy feeling of happiness.

Come alive bright memories of yesteryear. I’m waiting for you to lift our dreams to such great heights, ready to lift off. This neighborhood, this community, this lovely city I call home, it keeps calling me back, over and over again. Every train that I take back and forth, swaddling on the tracks, I know that I’m in just the right place at just the right time. It can’t be wrong, but how could it be in a city that has crafted such wonderful memories. You don’t forget NYC because it all begins (and ends) here in a grand, circular motion. 

They keep floating and floating and floating. Just float on my friend, take me away, it’s perfect from far away. You know the puzzle pieces of life fit together snuggly in a nice picture frame. You hang it on the door and you walk outside, knowing that life is certainly intact in the photo frame. Though the past is so, so far away, I am the remains of the good that came of it. And you know what? Damn, that’s feels so frickin’ good. 

My compadre on the west coast is celebrating his 18th Birthday in an hour or two. And you know what? Those same memories that live inside me, also have a special place for him. The times he ran around the block, scraping his knee, calling his dad, getting made fun off, giving me noogies, telling me wild stories, and laughing endlessly on my rusty old green sofas, he won’t forget. I won’t let him.

And the best memories are born from the friends you miss the most, every single day. So cheers to you my little Mush. You might not be so little anymore and you’ve got a huge horizon ahead of you. But trust me, these memories, we’re not forgetting you. And neither should you forget you.

The east coast is waiting for you. Come back alive and kicking ass.

Ashraf Ali