July 28, 2004

Reflections

Artist/Band: Lonestar Song: Not A Day Goes By Album: I'm Already There Got a picture of you I carry in my heart Close my eyes to see it when the world gets dark Got a memory of you I carry in my soul I wrap it close around me when the nights get cold If you asked me how I'm doin' I'd say just fine But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind Not a day goes by that I don't think of you After all this time you're still with me it's true Somehow you remain locked so deep inside Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by I still wait for the phone in the middle of the night Thinkin' you might call me if your dreams don't turn out right And it still amazes me that I lie here in the dark Wishin' you were next to me, your head against my heart If you asked me how I'm doing I'd say just fine But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind Not a day goes by that I don't think of you After all this time you're still with me it's true Somehow you remain locked so deep inside Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by Minutes turn to hours, and the hours to days Seems it's been forever that I've felt this way Not a day goes by that I don't think of you After all this time you're still with me it's true Somehow you remain locked so deep inside Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by
As the week is rolling by I have been feeling like going back in a circle and starting from where I left back.. yes it seems a little wierd but this week started with lots of old contacts seeping in through the realms of time and reminding me of the world that I have passed through... Dreams... that I dreamt with friends sitting on the doorsteps giggling at little things without much cause. Always in the mind that we would be ever together.. And then we went our seperate ways and yes today after so many years, old friends sail past me every now and then and its always a nice feeling to feel the breeze blowing by me... the echoes of nonchalant laughter, threads of soft murmurs..... yes there are times when the wisps of time blow their fine threads across one's consciousness and I am like a little girl in a field of sunflowers trying to catch the flying cotton balls of memories. Some I grasp in my hand and some I have to let go. Yet the ones I grasp give me so much happiness to be remembered.... And now I have to come back to the concrete village and binary digits and pixelated words which need my attention. Back to the wheel of time I go. Rolling as I gather some moss here and there.... I flow...