it’s easy to forget — much harder to remember.
while this could be a tagline for ADHD, there’s certainly a meaning beneath its earth. letting go of any retainer is not as natural to our conscious as it is to its adversary.
if given the option, in the moment, i’m positive i’d take it. however, after the fact, i’d hope my past self would resist the urge to purge the memories.
how bad does something have to be for it to be forgotten? it could be traumatic or utterly boring.
i don’t have a clear head. you won’t catch me in a bed. i’m the one who spoke of dread and implanted it.
let the body liberate. why don’t i release the hold on actions and rates. what’s the difference between two and three? is the gap as big as it seems? the cost of an ethic of workhorse greed. i control every treat ticket redeemed.
in this situation, past 0200 hours, i’m not yet finished. the city fountain never ceases its spigots. stuck in a limbo of drowsy and rigid, words exorcise out onto an imaginary script. i cry for the poor soul reading it, for no contribution was ever intended.
it’s interesting that we can’t intentionally talk and listen simultaneously. if we could, patience would be thrown out the window as people mime each other into understanding.
thumbs look like alien claws with faceplated glass. where is the purpose in ballpoint and pad? can we listen while we read? what remains and what deletes? i’d like to choose when arson is employed. you can use my acres. they’re a kick in the groin, then uppercart to the jaw. i can’t make noise.
the high-strung never stop. the body falters and the mind is blocked. upon resuscitation, a heartbeat pops. this gunfire continues on and on and on.
in an interesting experiment, i began imagining strangers as family. i would then observe the shift in emotion, if any (lots). if you try it yourself, you may encounter the wave from paranoia to acceptance. it can alter an entire stature into a more natural march.
similarly, if i believe i’m worth the ears of comedy, i resultantly attempt more jokes to interact with the people around me. if i’m disingenuous to sociality, my withdrawal becomes a fortitude.
drag an argument into the next stage. only in the end, do we see it’s the same. history repeats like an annual birthday. i am nothing more than moulded dirt and clay.
where is the lesson in repetition? it defies religion and timbres’s significance.
the cold, calcified practices of regulation for self-preservation are obvious in our omniverse. what do i take for a snake as long as a field of vision should be in reverse. greed and disease are a necessary release of claim on the will that we call free, recommend i beat em’ red and leave em’ half-dead — enough to ink a memory. vulgar is the alter of our attention falters. my world is solitary like a busted open locker.
— D K T