When you forget about you

One hair after the other. I am pretty sure that I have lost a strand of hair during today’s shower. Watching all that hair wash down the sink, it felt like a big chunk of me has crumbled away, sucked into a hole. But I am unwilling to follow and yet, I don’t exactly know what to do. My original November promise has been postponed to end of January and it’s agonizing, as though having fallen behind my plan; now feeling like I never had any to begin with and also wondering what I have been doing all this time.

This town’s dynamic triggers a form of disillusion that results in forgetfulness and apathy of the worst kind.

I have forgotten about me completely.

As in what I am here for and what I am capable of.

 

I don’t know why, but when I was on the phone to one of my suppliers, he kind of made me cry, because after talking about something he said to me that I understood him, he said I understood men. I can’t explain why I had to laugh and cry at the same time. But to be honest I was very sad.

 

My sentiments have changed, too. I only started to realize. It has taken me a while to recollect pieces of who I am and who I have become. My birthmark has moved from one spot to another, which is simply an indication of me to take the next step. The cocoon is decomposing, the butterfly has moved westward.

 

I have remembered everything but me.

 

The editor said to me he wasn’t entirely sure where the story was going. At least that reminded me that I have somewhere to go, that I have my own footsteps to leave behind rather than follow anyone. So where I go is of no one’s concern and the reason does not matter. And yet, I have to somehow illustrate it to the reader, because he is oh so interested. It’s simple.

You have your mind and your own self fixed to a lie and that lie becomes everything. You ultimately have a goal worth chasing. There is a better and more acceptable way of describing it. Call it your own personal existential way of leading your life.

Ok, maybe not as simple. But here’s the simple version:

She is a cardiologist looking to mend her broken heart by practicing heart surgery on others. She has sex with healthy men in order to regain her climax. She loves only 3 men in her life, not 4. She has an aversion against women, who…

She doesn’t believe she has a conscience.

It’s clear where she is going, right? All you know is that you would never follow her.

Because you’re too scared. And all she wanted was you to keep her head above water.

 

I’m going to meditate my mind back, regain my creative and expressive spirit and start to focus again.

 

I wish I cared a lot more.  I only take initiative when I care. I only shout when I am me. For a while I have forgotten this all.

 

Now I have a bit of a way to go. There is only one thing to remember.  The rest is to be forgotten.

 

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