Footsteps, chats from distance, their voices swept by the wind blowing almost to a stopping speed. I just watch them quietly with no sudden movement from my body. Like a tiger patiently waiting for its prey, the difference is I don’t kill and eat them. My mind just absorbing pieces of their memories that scatters all over the place. I believe memories is the strongest thing remains from those biological machines after they
died.
Death. Why some people scared of it? Is it because they’re not ready? Or knowing they’re guilty over themselves and everybody else? Or just selfishly feeling the most holy person full of sin before meeting a greater power than them? All the answers I place in an envelope and burn with the rationalize fire in my head. Loves, devotion, anger, fear, childness feelings are some of everyday subjects people tend to take and pour over their poor, hollow
soul.
Driven by a meaningless goal in the so-called-life, a contemporary recycled excuse that is being used since the day human can think rationally. Like me. My body is simply a chalk being scraped over and over again with my actions that resulted in actually nothingness, to me. Controlled by delusion of being a perfect individual just makes it worse because it uses my thoughts
too.
That is why I believe that a memory is the single last-able treasure of a human that nothing can take from them. We are simply facing what we called vaporizing with a spectacular exit. Having sex and orgasm so great we completely lost of action of what actually doing, hitting someone with sharp edges of what we just said, taking for granted time that were given to us, raising and developing our anger in the most beautiful way people just adore. A Simple modesty grown out of the lowest ground of human
misery.
Disappointments just kept on hitting me below the belt over and over again. I feel the enjoyment of being my own mocking object. Hanging to a thin ice layers right on the edge, I love being strangled to my own truth. I was wondering is there any memories that were lost couldn’t find their source? Like a baby without a womb, they breed themselves out of the condition of being misplaced. But by who? Nobody
knows.
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