time: 11:24am
music: your hand in mine - explosions in the sky
mood: pensive
make into papier-mache to construct hearts held together by glue
it disintergrates like how it frays at the edges, goes grey and disappears like it was never there in the first place, out of sight, and painfully, out of mind. and while i may struggle to hold on to the very sweet essences of those very sweet stories, it deviously slips through the cracks between my fingers. before i realise the inevitability of "loss and losing", i will find myself returning to a home i no longer remember, pining for the faces that i can no longer recall and reiterating failed attempts at falling back into a routine that no longer fits my skin.
albeit relentless, i will still search for the center, where the four walls surround me as they close in, and whence time stretches when it shouldnt. underneathe it all, i know. i know that each death is temporary; that i, as you have too, have just been built, bent on bruising ourselves black and blue ... and until i am devoured with interplaying lights morphing into cellophane red, green and yellow - only then will i permit this empty to blot me an inkjet stain,. only then will i let it grotesquely bleed all over my hypothalamus and four cortexes. i drown. i fall. i let fall to let die. but i will resurrect. to die, over and over again.
heartcrushes saved for existentialism to set in amidst auxiliary theories and ...because, when JeanSartre spoke of responsibility, he was not talking about something abstract. he was not talking about the kind of self or soul that theologians would argue about. it's something very concrete. it's you and i talking, making decisions, doing things and taking the consequences as they come. it might be true that there are six billion people in the world and counting. nevertheless, what you do makes a difference. it makes a difference, first of all, in material terms. makes a difference to other people and it sets an example. in short, i think the message here is that we should never simply write ourselves off and see ourselves as the victim of various forces. it's always our decision who we are.
i will resurrect. to die, over and over again.
