Παρασκευή, 9 Αυγούστου 2013

Happy Times

"Sometimes I get to feeling, I was back in the old days, long ago..."
  This line is, of course, from Queen's tearjerker "These Are The Days of Our Lives" (Thank you Roger, piss off Roger). For reasons unknown, whenever I pass outside an old friend's house at my mother's home town this song plays in my mind by default. You see, my friend is no longer with us, he passed away more than 15 years ago. The song is about the passage of time but on the other hand I don't remeber ever listening to it together with my friend. It's just that the feeling it conveys is in sync with what I feel. Ever since I was a child, time has been racing me and I keep running, and I feel its breath on my neck and I keep running. When I finally look back,  I see "happy times". Always ''happy times".
   I loved my friend. We weren't close, I only saw him on holidays and especially the long summer ones but there is still not one day that I won't think of him. I guess those summer friends are always precious. But the truth of the matter is we didn't always have fun . He used to pick on me so much that by the end I'd decided I'd had enough and backed away. But still those times are "happy". Wether they actually are or because I choose to remember them so.
  Likewise, I catch myself wishing I could turn back the clock. But I know there never were happy times. Only happy moments. I remember coming back from a Robert Plant concert, literally flying with his autograph in my hands. It's a moment that still remains so vivid I can almost touch it. But the reality of my life back then was rather bleak and quite indifferent to my happiness. Would I really want to visit my life back then? No. No way. But I still long to come back home flying.
  For all the times my friend picked on me I can only remember but a few. On the contrary, I still remeber playing Trivial at his front yard with his mother and sister and in my mind I'm still answering "what was the name of Cousteau's ship" in a loop, we read the fist Punisher mini-series in the black and white edition from Cobra Press, we watch Fantastic Four cartoons, go for long walks, ride our bikes, play at the arcades for hours, watch Fred Savage movies and so forth and so forth. Good times is all I really remember...
  Were they wonder years if I know he'd die shortly after? Do I have the right to call them that? I don't really know. But in the end I can't turn back the tide (ain't that a shame?) and I don't have to. All I have to do is remember the past.and suddenly it's alive. In these dark days we're living, I'm making happy moments to save for the future. And wherever I may be then, I'll turn them into happy times...!



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