So Here We Are…

Black flies on the windowsill 
That we are 
That we are 
That we are to know 
Winter stole summer’s thrill 
And the river’s cracked and cold 

First weekend home in a while. This might be the first time I really realize how people drift apart after high school.

See the sky is no man’s land 
A darkened plume to stay 
Hope here needs a humble hand 
Not a fox found in your place 

No man is an island, this I know 
But can’t you see? 
Maybe you were the ocean when I was just a stone 

You know how people often say you’ll lose touch with your high school friends. My senior year was the best. I honestly cannot fathom spending it with any other people. It had everything in it. Ups and downs. People to love and others to hate. But most importantly memories to cherish.

Black flies on the windowsill 
That we are 
That we are 
That we are to hold 
Comfort came against my will 
And every story must grow old 

However the whole time, I had people say all of this will change. Of course, I was not naive enough to think that nothing would change. But I did not expect so many people to drift apart. I did not expect my friends to stress over irrelevant details and fight. I think most of them did not actually realize things do in fact change.

Still I’ll be a traveler 
A gypsy’s reins to face 
But the road is wearier 
With that fool found in your place 

No man is an island, this I know 
But can’t you see? 
Maybe you were the ocean when I was just a stone 
No man is an island, this I know 
But can’t you see, oh – 
Maybe you were the ocean 
When I was just a stone? 

So here we are… 

People change. Time changes. We deal with it. End of story.

And I don’t wanna beg your pardon 
And I don’t wanna ask you why 
But if I was to go my own way 
Would I have to pass you by? 
And I don’t wanna beg your pardon 
And I don’t wanna ask you why 
But if I was to go my own way 
Would I have to pass you by?

Tonight, I realized I did not have to try anymore. Certain people were meant to be met at certain points in time and then left behind. It is not necessarily a bad thing. I guess it just means that sometimes people go their own way. Time? Change? Whatever it is, it’s just a bunch of factors leading to one thing: Life goes on. So I won’t try anymore, I’ve tried hard enough. Everyone should do the same.

PS: The lyrics are Ben Howard’s Black Flies. That song has been haunting me lately and it kind of goes with the general, and somewhat messy, idea of the text. Enjoy!

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