Memories within minds disintegrate with time.
October 15, 2012Maybe it's the manifestation of a desire to feel that our lives are relevant, that our existence has an impact, that we are somehow significant, in an otherwise seemingly meaningless unfolding of events. The conviction to not forget, to love beyond departure, to have stories etched onto our souls, as if we could through these, defy mortality.
Let bygones be bygones, they say.
It’s the present moment in which our existence manifests, with each breath the privilege of a new conscious opportunity to experience whatever it is that this, around us is.
In the grander scheme of things, does my torment make any difference in the outcome of events? Of course it doesn’t. Do I have a choice to simply let go of it? Of course I do.
Choice. A matter of perspective, at best.
I could… tell myself this story all over again. Changing the perspective through which the story was experienced and therefore the tone in which the story is retold.
Or I… could forget the story altogether. Memories within minds all disintegrate with time anyway.
*12:41pm power outage.
The words disappear from the screen, but the feelings within do not subside.