About Me

I can be summed up in as little, or as much words as you like.

Saturday, 26 October 2013

Life loses color when a life is lost.

It has taken me this long to do this because I felt like it had to be perfect. It has to be perfect. Every time I come back to this post to go over it, I cry, again and again. The finality of death hits me...go down a couple of posts and you will realize that when I was writing about empathizing with the cold soul death was, I never truly understood it at that point. I was talking from a very objective point of view. Subjectively speaking as I now do, it hurts. It doesn't go away. Week after week you remember. It’s the huge things at first...then the little things start coming in, suddenly you're having a quiet moment at the library until someone walks up to you and says "hey' are you ok?" . You then realize tears are rolling down your face. That little voice you hear which is usually as simple as"sissy" in my head heard clearly in your voice and I just ache. Deep inside my heart, the hollow gets deeper and I ache. It’s all so final you know?... I say that I am fine.. all the time..and then I think of her mum and dad and her siblings and it hurts more because I know that something inside them died along with her. I know it hurts a lot and they just have to go through the motions of getting through it. The finally of death hit me and then I wonder what it’s all for. What is life? What is joy? What is it all about? I get very confused at the purpose of happy living; once my pain cherry popped it somehow diminished my ability to be completely happy. On my happy spectrum, at the uppermost part appeared a black blip sealing my ability to achieve that height of glee. I’ll no more be able to achieve that level of happiness. I also fear that with everything that is equally as traumatizing,my capacity to feel happiness or joy or glee diminishes and very soon my happy rainbow will just be a black blipped crescent. Never again will I enjoy the some of the things emotional privileges I used to. Never again will I understand what true unblemished happiness means...I’ll only have my memories. That is such a scary thought. Who cares if this post is perfect...I’ve lost some part of me im never going to get back. When a person dies...they stop being...It’s so abstract...like it seems like that can’t happen.  It’s not concrete till it happens....what happens to their memories....does it stay dead with them? The experiences that made them unique have somehow died...I don’t know it’s so morbid. Like they are just dead...dead...I wonder if it got easier or if along with my ever shortening “capacity for joy” rainbow, the memories, the pain the bleakness just got stamped on with something else. It’s not a black blip however...it’s this white light that keeps getting bigger and bigger and you're ignoring it cos it’s white and blends right in the background till it becomes a huge canvas of buried pain that might explode with a huge flash and consume you. Do you truly move on or is it just what you tell yourself to get through the moment? It does get you through the moment...but for how long? Are the dead lost...do they acknowledge themselves as dead...-this is finally who I am..Or does it just stay dead like the bodies? Is it lonely out there? Do you still feel the things you felt as a living person? Are you in pain not the physical kind...but does it hurt...what if you hated yourself before you died? Do you forgive yourself in death? Do you live in constant unhappiness....what if you look inwards at what you are and you're dissatisfied but then there isn't another medium to fix..I mean as a human you can fix your outsides in the hopes of fixing your insides and vice versa...but is there another medium?...you can be satisfied with one and leave the other wanting...you can be in denial...can you be in denial when the only thing you are is found wanting and can’t be fixed or sorted? What happens to all the knowledge you accumulate over time? Your individual (explicit and implicit and all their sub groups), collective (communicative and cultural and all its subgroups) memories....what happens with those...that's an individual right there dispersed into something intangible or nothingness. An individual that brought Joy Pain Love Peace Something into the world…that someone whose living presence was so essential then they die…and take away some part of your life with them because you are who you are cos they were a part of your life..And all that’s left are the memories that time takes away. Memory is so reconstructive that even that isn’t safe from you…and you may not remember a person exactly how they were…just your pieces and fragments. Well today my pieces and fragments aren’t helping me. They don’t compare. They don’t get better with age. They just torture me and leave me half filled. I am emptier now that I’ve had you and lost you. I am emptier. There is no you and there is no joy. It’s all bland.  No flavor whatsoever. It’s colorless and different. It’s the sum of the dull unexciting steps I take to living in your wake.
I Love You.
Forever and Always.
My Egghead…

Sleep Well….xx.