On oblivion

I can’t stop feeling like I’m missing something. This summer feels peculiar; like it’s out of place and time. The winter was long and hard and I loved it. This summer hasn’t even begun yet and it seems to be stalling just long enough to tell me something. I can barely hear it. Its voice echoing around my convictions and sharp decisions, as if it’s creeping around cooly to whisper the secret that will help me move forward.

I keep looking over my shoulder and all around me, just to make sure nothing is following me; except my memories, they always do. They will not leave me alone. They will not cease reminding me what I wanted most and what I settled for in the hopes that I would get it. 

The decisions we regret are the ones we did not make whole-heartedly. The ones during which we were trying to fool ourselves. I have lots of those tucked away in my old mattress. That is why I bought a new one. The old one is still on my floor. How much of what I dreamt has seeped inside? I almost tore it up today to find out. I almost retraced the steps that brought me here. It’s not the origins I wish to go back to, it’s the moments that gave me the scars I bear today. 

Thank God we don’t have a time machine. We’re not supposed to go back. We’d fuck up to oblivion. We’d lock ourselves inside a loop, unable to see the exit, forget it’s even there. We barely live in the present as it is. We are weak. So certain of a different outcome, if only we were to redo it. We live alongside flashbacks we keep distorting. We project the selves we want to achieve but do nothing to reach. 

The nights are still cool. The new mattress still uncomfortable. The old one still breathes; its lungs wheezing with everything I’ve put it through. All it’s made of now is tears, saliva and sweat. And words. An endless π of words.

Truths, lies, stories, promises, warnings, beginnings, middles and ends.- 

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