(no subject)
its strange to see your concrete form captured in time. its surreal. its unreal. to see skin on skin contact, with something that appeared so palpable.
memory, thoughts, dreams, skin, touch, hands -- theyre all molecules. when they collide, it can be alarming. when i feel a dream physically, its so odd that it makes me want to cry. my tears are memories and thoughts. they have differing consistencies and movement, but theyre truly alike.
i can state this, but i cant wrap my brain cells around it.
memories are lost so swiftly and easily. its terrifying. everyone is terrified of becoming forgotten. you can transcend from the physical to non-physical. your existence becomes abstract. no longer a shoulder you can place your hand upon, but a thought that can consume you physically even greater than the physical.
i sometimes walk along the canal and see a park bench dedicated in someone's memory. or a tree. or a stone. what if you were a park bench, or a tree, or a stone? your name is now engraved in a public area for all to see, to see that you were loved, enough to erect a small monument. but, does anyone actually care? anyone who wasnt directly involved?
probably not.
except for the curious few who concoct stories, or visuals in their mind about that person, or that life. but it seems unfair not to acknowledge the humdreds or thousands of dedications that surround us. to dismiss the bronze engraving with an unconscious ignorance. it occurs all too often. no one would be able to live, or breathe, or move if they were concerned with every single letter etched into a shiny substance. is anything really being conserved? i dont know, ive actually just typed myself into confusion. im going to go read now.
memory, thoughts, dreams, skin, touch, hands -- theyre all molecules. when they collide, it can be alarming. when i feel a dream physically, its so odd that it makes me want to cry. my tears are memories and thoughts. they have differing consistencies and movement, but theyre truly alike.
i can state this, but i cant wrap my brain cells around it.
memories are lost so swiftly and easily. its terrifying. everyone is terrified of becoming forgotten. you can transcend from the physical to non-physical. your existence becomes abstract. no longer a shoulder you can place your hand upon, but a thought that can consume you physically even greater than the physical.
i sometimes walk along the canal and see a park bench dedicated in someone's memory. or a tree. or a stone. what if you were a park bench, or a tree, or a stone? your name is now engraved in a public area for all to see, to see that you were loved, enough to erect a small monument. but, does anyone actually care? anyone who wasnt directly involved?
probably not.
except for the curious few who concoct stories, or visuals in their mind about that person, or that life. but it seems unfair not to acknowledge the humdreds or thousands of dedications that surround us. to dismiss the bronze engraving with an unconscious ignorance. it occurs all too often. no one would be able to live, or breathe, or move if they were concerned with every single letter etched into a shiny substance. is anything really being conserved? i dont know, ive actually just typed myself into confusion. im going to go read now.