I realize now, how little we know about ourselves and the unfolding of who we will be and what large claims we make in our formative years about the future. How we suckle on some moments of life, and document them on paper, within neural circuits, as if the rest of our existence in this dimension is going to depend on that.
And then, how easy it is, wonderfully easy…revoltingly easy… to let go…
And restart.
Just push the right button.
Like there was no past, you just never existed. Even the name you so prided over, the name you thought made you shine out of the darkness of the rest of creation, it can fall into anonymity and you don’t feel the loss. That’s the strangest part of it, you feel absolutely no loss in this surrender, in this homogeny with something that was never yours… when you feel now, that this is all there was, from the beginning.
And the beginning took place just now.
The hair has grayed and the back bone makes slight crackling noises and the calcium of your teeth is less of what it was. But you’re brand new.
And you grope in the darkness behind you and there is nothing there. You, especially, are not there. This is what frightens you the most, your absence in those foot-prints and the knowledge that you’re never going back there. You will not be accepted there, you’ve burnt the bridges, ships, foot-tracks, pages, tunes, laughter, everything.
Did you really have to do that? Disassociate and start all over? Not turn around when anyone calls out your name from behind you? Never look into pages where you documented even your sighs? Everything is brand new, still wrapped in plastic for you to unwrap and delve into. Even your skin feels plastic. A grand total of zero individuals have asked you to do this. This is your call…and you’re not even scared. You are in a numbing sort of joy. You wonder how remember your language, though.
Some artifacts try to make their way across… but only on the superficial level, some books, some cities, not people though. Not entirely, at least. This is you in a personal world, not shared by people. And you will build the walls yourself and hold the fort. God Willing.
You worry me slightly.
Just that.
I wonder how you survived it, you blog, you.
And then, how easy it is, wonderfully easy…revoltingly easy… to let go…
And restart.
Just push the right button.
Like there was no past, you just never existed. Even the name you so prided over, the name you thought made you shine out of the darkness of the rest of creation, it can fall into anonymity and you don’t feel the loss. That’s the strangest part of it, you feel absolutely no loss in this surrender, in this homogeny with something that was never yours… when you feel now, that this is all there was, from the beginning.
And the beginning took place just now.
The hair has grayed and the back bone makes slight crackling noises and the calcium of your teeth is less of what it was. But you’re brand new.
And you grope in the darkness behind you and there is nothing there. You, especially, are not there. This is what frightens you the most, your absence in those foot-prints and the knowledge that you’re never going back there. You will not be accepted there, you’ve burnt the bridges, ships, foot-tracks, pages, tunes, laughter, everything.
Did you really have to do that? Disassociate and start all over? Not turn around when anyone calls out your name from behind you? Never look into pages where you documented even your sighs? Everything is brand new, still wrapped in plastic for you to unwrap and delve into. Even your skin feels plastic. A grand total of zero individuals have asked you to do this. This is your call…and you’re not even scared. You are in a numbing sort of joy. You wonder how remember your language, though.
Some artifacts try to make their way across… but only on the superficial level, some books, some cities, not people though. Not entirely, at least. This is you in a personal world, not shared by people. And you will build the walls yourself and hold the fort. God Willing.
You worry me slightly.
Just that.
I wonder how you survived it, you blog, you.
