I’m not really sure why it happens this way. It must be something about the information chunking; the manner in which information and memories are stored in the head. Whatever the cause -physiological or perhaps merely psychological – I find that a return in one area brings me sorrow for returns not realized in others.
Chuckle-worthy that; it only took me two days to start thinking about the things I wish I had rather than resting in the enjoyment of the one I have just received. Or maybe that’s the trouble about perspective; I am enjoying the one I just received, but part of that definition delicately crosses the boundary of contrast/contradiction/opposition and so, I think as well of “the other side” of this particularly beautiful coin… and am at once happy/sad.
I wish I’d never heard the word “saudade”, even as I would slaughter anyone who tried to take it from me.
Paradox. Contradiction. Hypocrisy. I suspect the only difference between them in a human is intent.
Reminders, reminders. (Times like this I wish I wore blinders.)
All that noise and activity to empty archives and swear up and down that core dump was complete. Like maybe, if I say it often enough, it will become true.
I don’t think it is possible to forget something that contributed in major ways to who you are, who you choose to be as a result of the experience. Or so I find it.
This is, of course, another one of those cryptic rambles that will only make sense to a reader if they were present when the original events occurred. It’s all code phrases and memes writhing under a silken shroud; Día de los Muertos… dance, motherfucker.
And so I do. The correct stimuli to the precise location triggers the release of some bubbles and the uptake of chemicals and here I am, stuck in the middle with you.
Scrytching the ytch and trying to forget that I’m in sackcloth and ash, outside the gate, unwelcome, unwanted, and lacking; a stone in the heart.
I could lay a path to the sea with the stones from that stone, if I could only lay it down.
So say we all.