Remember, and then, just forget it. Right?
All the days of my life. Every-single-person-I-met. Every word from every book I have ever read. And oh… The good things. I do not mind to forget the first silly things, I do not need them to live well. But when I come to think about the things that occurred to me in the past, I just cannot keep alway the bad thoughts. I question myself whether it is a kind of karma. You know, whether I will keep seeing those bad things repeatedly until it is kind of solved inside my head.
There is something in the air these days. When I breath, it is not a light feeling that comes within the air. I just wonder if someone is feeling this. Is there someone with an antidote? Because what I remember does not help. I suspect that maybe those things I do not remember would help a little. I suspect a lot of things, but I suspect that suspecting cannot help, at least in this case.
And then I see clearly as it had been yesterday. You by my side, and then, lying down, by the door, on my floor. At that time, I thought ‘Where this is going to lead us?’, and I do not know about you, but I was led here, full of ‘happiness and regret’! And things I know that really happened, but I just cannot remember. Maybe if I remember things I can remember, those things I cannot may come in the package… Like the that kind of psychology used with children, or younger siblings.
I got that call. Well, there is a thing there. I might tell. “My grandmother used to say that god is in the rain”
I remember seeing the Butterfly Effect for the first time, not the movie, but the effect in my life, which I noticed after seeing that movie, and then everything made sense. Everything was right there, in the right time, at the right place. And after that, I saw Magnolia… What a shame. And after that I heard that the world was changing so fast. And where is the light now? What is REAL now? Because, if everything keeps changing so fast, the concept of what is real changes, cause our experience changes. And then I try to remember the real thing I had, and I simply can’t.
And I suppose that I have never lived in reality, because when I think about something that really is real, I suppose that thing would be changeless. For ever.