First of the first times

My mood changes. The atmosphere changes too.




The first times on different things change.
The first grape on the tree blooms and grows. yet, it changes. - its youth
The first cloud which appears in the path of the Sun's rays. yet, it changes. - its shape
The first piece of gold linen weaved. yet, it changes. - its age



But if we hold on to the many first times,
take a still picture,
we might realise that they are the ones to keep.
but how many forget about them?
Or should we say, how many ever remembers them?



so what do we do with such times...?
do we take a stillshot of them and keep them in a box.
of memories, of material things? hopefully when we open the box again, it brings back the memories, the smell and scent which will arouse mental reminiscence?



or, do we try to remember as much, and predict fate. in hope that one day, we might recall as accurately as what we've gone through.

does one keep a record? maybe write it in a small notebook. "My first friends", "my first time to this place_____" etc.
then again, when we are clearing the clutter, we wonder if the notebook is fulfilling its purpose at all.




photographs,items,memories,videotapes and documentaries of sorts, to make them live for centuries. how nice! when we think of them, only one outlives the rest and does not use any sort of "technical assistance" so to speak.


the thoughts that comes through.
only humans think and let it unravel. imagine the neurons and its nerves wrecking at the speed of light. how fast! how fast we work, they say. how come i'm thinking so slowly, we say.

nothing is too fast, nothing seems too slow.