5, 1996, 2:10pm...)
(...december 5, 1996, 2:10pm...)
Tortured by the reality of today. The torture, the pain inflicted by sorrow, that unavoidable, self centered sorrow. The pain that won't stop and seemed to appear out of the blue. The pain that slowly digs up those forgotten thoughts. I find out now that perhaps I did not do so well in hiding them, I just hadn't buried them deep enough. Only deep enough to deny, to avoid for a year or two. The time I waited is the time it took for them to erupt, explode, release and be found. To pull past the dust and cobwebs, to build up past the burial that was so deep.
No more dead than the long sought after deceased. I recall those insignificant memories, lost words, old work, and things that were always left unsaid. I recall them like they were yesterday and today does not exist. I pull my mind into a state of disbelief as I wander back into past time. Each little memory suddenly more sincere the second time around, more important, more to hold onto as tight as I can and never let go. As I slowly float back to today, to the reality that has had such an effect. As I recall that those memories simply are just memories and will never be relived. Never relived except in the depths of my forgotten mind. Only now do I discover no more of those memories will be made.
A life lost and a world recreated. In their glory a life lived, in their defeat a life no longer living. Today through all of my reflection, through every thought, every feeling, for all that is happy everything is sad. And it will continue, continue forever. Forever until the day when those memories, lost words, old work, and things left unsaid disappear into thin air. Forever until the day I die. Continuing to build up a huge knot in my stomach, a sore in my throat, and a burning tear to my eye.
Nothing can be done now, no question to be asked except, "why?". With no answer to be given. Today my breath seems irrelevant, unimportant, just another lucky circumstance that I could care less about. My life is lost without the simple wink of her eye. Without the constant reminder of my so taken for granted security. Without the accumulation of more simple memories to bury deep and hold so close at the same time.
distinct sorrow lies in the severity it takes to open my eyes, the
extremes that must occur to make me learn, to make me never take for
granted what I have got. The infinite sadness I must experience to
force me to realize that everyday, every word, every thought, and
every feeling are all important and none insignificant. That they
don't deserve to be buried and hidden. The little things are what
make the big difference. And
it has taken me until today to realize how sacred every moment really
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