disynthetic

I don't want any stale emotions reminding me of past failures. Passed failures. Like a car rolling past a train wreck, a car wreck, or a struck pedestrian. Flashing lights and blurry vision, memories race back as two siblings trying to walk faster than the other-- not running. For no reason other to win. The only way I could have said goodbye was to have known what wasn't for me to know. And there they are, the buried memories floating like a decaying corpse, bloated in water. Past-tense..

I'm quite as morbid as that would make you think. Not as hopeless as that sounds. It's merely the fittest way I could describe past and it's way of haunting my future decisions. Run as fast as you can, close your eyes as long as you like. Your shadow will catch you. Quickly.

So I embrace my shadow and keep the memory fresh. Cope with it and endure it. After all, terror is not so intimidating when it is familiar to you, I imagine.

Ask me how I came to this conclusion, this possibly alternative path, and I would say that history did it. More than one wise person likely realized this and then put apostrophies about his or her words in such a manner: "What do you know about yourself and your kind, what do you really know, if you don't know what happened yesterday?" I don't know who said that. Maybe I said that. But I believe it.