Can you ever be jealous of someone’s memory? Imagine this person is re-experiencing this memory with you without you knowing it. Eventually, you find out, and it hurts to think that during that particular moment you thought was special, he wasn’t thinking about you—tough shit.
Should you have reacted that way? You certainly can’t help how you feel about something.
I don’t like crying, even if it’s for the sake of lubricating my dry eyes. Suppose it helps for better vision afterwards, fine. I’ll do it.
I won’t speak another word of it.
I hate number four – it’s been haunting me for months now. Waking up in the middle of the night, I look at my phone, which says 1:03 and hours later again: 4:00. Like Jim Carrey, this obsession is deadly. Today’s the 31st.
I had no distractions today, just a series of failed missions leading to excessive sleep and a bit of gluttony with New Radicals on repeat for over five hours. They often remind me of the local Jehovah’s Witnesses, who often come up to me to ask if I spoke or read Chinese so that they could hand me a leaflet written in Chinese. Despite my disbelief in their version of the truth, I feel like going for a coffee with those people. Maybe a brainwash would make me happy and forget.
The last brainwash didn’t work; it was nothing but transitory excitement and the illusion of making 100K in a year. I figured that the only thing that ever managed to brainwash me was the notion of love, which also encompasses other aspects, such as self-denial and autosuggestion.
I repeatedly made myself believe in something without looking for evidence. In the end, that belief got me nowhere; it had tricked my heart and chained my wrists. This is what you do; you turn a blind eye to what you don’t want to be true. Eventually, I’ll slap and kill the coward to stop any further moments of unfortunate heartbreak that are bound to happen again and again until I fall into pieces. False belief. It fucking hurts, but for the sake of growth, change, self-fulfillment and all remaining elephants in the world, that little skid mark in your brain carries more truth than anything.
Please don’t ignore it because it looks ugly. You’ve been brainwashing yourself. Memory can be based on a lie.
But…who cares anymore?
