My memories of the recent pasts are fading with each heart beat and every breath: I cannot remember what I ate for dinner last night. My mind floats with each second and every blink: Tonight, I almost hit an oncoming car to my right due my eyeglasses and jet black hair (of EMO-like, Japanese reversed permanent) blocking the sight of the vehicle’s headlight. My conscious state of existing is defined by my current five senses, which are becoming more desensitized with each passing day.
Without all three aspects of current self, I am nothing. With nothing, I am dead. I am a living dead in this world. Yet I feel what is left of me remains alive through my published blogs. Also, a recent project of putting picture frames together (for later installation upon our bare walls painted titanium white color) of my childhood photographs with my family, friends and relatives leaves me wondering if I have truly experienced events from these pasts that I no longer are remembered.
I recognize the little girl as me in the photos that ‘Shiva-Paw’ has taken up through the times of graduating college. As I try to place myself into the shoes of this person that resembles me, I do not remember anything – no emotions, no thought processes or anything that seemed to matter to someone who continues to exist in the present for an unknown future. Without these visual aides, I must continue to dream of living life to the fullest, complete with the emptiness.
The experiences of days then as today are but memories meant to be forgotten. I’ve forgotten why I am born, here to this body, to my family and to this culture on this side of this world. I’ve forgotten why I bother with the struggle to understand myself and others. I’ve forgotten why I want to continue or need to pursue distractions that tend to bump other forms of memory out of my network of neurotransmitters to make room for other memories that may eventually be replaced or saved for later use.
My life is defined by remembering and being remembered. My death exists by those who do know remember me at all or wish me dead. Today, I have viewed my Blog Stats about ‘Top Posts’ and saw one of my blogs entitled with ‘Red Dot’. At first glance this reminds me of well-paid snipers hired to point their red lasers at the tika point of my third eye, which is located on the forehead and somewhere in between the eyebrows.
With my imagination running high, I would rather be released from this current life form and know happiness once from my photos and blogs than being alive with all the knowledge of how the operators continue to rule this world with their iron fists of fear through war, famine, pestilence and death. As glum as this may sound, I want to program my brain with hopes for a better future without the need to start all over from scratch.
My personal experiences of unknown forces at work and behind the scenes are supposed to be all good regardless of my opinions, although at least this is what I’ve read and been told many times. I’ve left some clues via my blogs for my would-be readers to figure out on their own. Those who know my very words of this particular blog and at this very instance are laughing because they are either already on the other side as good as dead or they have been there in the warmth of pure bliss and came back to tell us any good news. I hate knowing them as myself right now!
If you don’t see my blogs every day or at least every other day, you might as well remember me as ‘Fluffy’ like the nice cumulous clouds one would see floating above their heads in the deep blue skies and on a nice summer day with cool breezes dancing among the tree top limbs and as ‘Flynn’ like the red-hair tendrils of the sun’s rays flying downward to warm the soil of Mother Earth and upon the bones of those whose memory tells stories of how they once lived.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
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