Where Anyone is Possible
It just seems that I don't remember events in my past. Only in just the recent path that I can remember things. I bet in 1 years time, I won't remember what I did this Christmas. Why do I have a problem like this? Why do I seem to nag about all the problems I have? It isn't healthy. Something I don't know. Something I shouldn't complain. Something I just at least write about here or think about in secret.
Why do I not want to remember the past? Or why can't I remember? Is it my past? Is it that I don't care about the past? Is it that I have a deep grudge with it that I dont remember or forget about it? It makes no sense in writing to me, but complete sense in my head. Empty with no memories. Filled with representations of my past. Of people. Of places. Of things that never happened. Of things that could have happened. Of things that did happen. The bad happenings. And of absurd happenings that make no sense with our dimensions.
I am trapped in the past. Confined in bars of shadows. People with a sillouette, but a body of black. No face or voice to recognize. Nothing as a clue. Trapped in a field of black. Thinking is hard. Confusing. Helpless. Useless. Memories of the past are hard to come up with. The distant past is hard to conjure up. Events of my high school year as a junior last year are long forgotten. Friends of elementary school forgotten. Of course. The bullies have stuck in my head, but no longer do they have a face or a name. I only know I was bullied. No more do I know who. No more do I know how.
The dark sillouette people may be the bullies, but I have nothing to go on. No memory. No item. Nothing. My mind is fixated on the now, but I look to the past and future. Questions like "What should I do now?" Don't cross my mind. "What happened back then?" "What will happen?" "Who were they?" "Will anyone love me?" "Will I be rejected again?" "Why was I rejected then?" Questions like that. My tainted mind. Plagued with thoughts like these. I feel like I'm on the verge of breaking. But it holds. Something retains form. Something pulls me back. Something stops me from thinking and going into worse thoughts. But what? Is it the past? Are they impossible ideals thought by me keeping me sane, or getting me closer to insanity? Confusion clatters around in my mind. Questions litter the mental streets. Memories are posted on the back of milk cartons..... or just long forgotten.