I used to write a lot a few years ago, prose poetry everything. Then something I'd like to forget happened, and as the worse luck would have it; it was "the" thing that used to inspire my writing. To make matters even worse I couldn't even just do by re-reading my old works.. no prizes for guessing why.. because of course it reminded me of him. So I did the best I could think of at that time, I just stopped logging my thoughts in, as the first rule of forgetting is to leave nothing to remember!!! In theory It did seem to work in my favor, as under normal circumstances I have a very short memory so no documentation of my sad sop story would mean no recollection of it later.
But if life were as simple as this ( though mine is pretty close to it , not quite there yet) we'd all be super happy like kids in a candy store, but sadly we're more like their parents who have to lug them along!!! So the end result was something of this sort: I stopped doing something i loved a lot (writing) and didn't achieve the task at hand ( memory reset as I'd like to call it).
One more thing happened as a by product of the moron's presence in my life: As he'd been there since I was a kid way till the time I became an adult, all the awesome things to have happened in my life are locked in those memoirs and I cant relive those moments without having being reminded how I were a fool to have not seen the mistake from the onset. But sometimes you just have to stumble and fall before you rise.
Enough with philosophy, I might be looking as one love's labor lost soul... well that's what I used to think myself as to but it all seems to distant (to have any impact on my life) and yet so recent (for me to be perfectly capable of recalling every detail) that I've started to consider myself as one of those partial psychiatric subject materials whom new graduates would love to have to discovered and the name the disease after me!! Boy would that be a great way to be famous!!!!
But if life were as simple as this ( though mine is pretty close to it , not quite there yet) we'd all be super happy like kids in a candy store, but sadly we're more like their parents who have to lug them along!!! So the end result was something of this sort: I stopped doing something i loved a lot (writing) and didn't achieve the task at hand ( memory reset as I'd like to call it).
One more thing happened as a by product of the moron's presence in my life: As he'd been there since I was a kid way till the time I became an adult, all the awesome things to have happened in my life are locked in those memoirs and I cant relive those moments without having being reminded how I were a fool to have not seen the mistake from the onset. But sometimes you just have to stumble and fall before you rise.
Enough with philosophy, I might be looking as one love's labor lost soul... well that's what I used to think myself as to but it all seems to distant (to have any impact on my life) and yet so recent (for me to be perfectly capable of recalling every detail) that I've started to consider myself as one of those partial psychiatric subject materials whom new graduates would love to have to discovered and the name the disease after me!! Boy would that be a great way to be famous!!!!
