Scar Tissue & Rotten Apples.

i watched a horrible movie tonight.

Not horrible in a way that would fall in or out of the normal critics formula.
HORRIBLE because it just personally made me feel absolutely, utterly miserable.

The thoughts i am about to expound on were conceived about an hour or so before i began watching said film.... however, it was not until the rolling of credits that they evolved into anything close to a solidified version.

You are fading from my memory.... & with a quickness.
Thats right... disappearing.... vaporizing into thin air.
Yet, i am completely aware that this is the case.

i find myself concentrating wholeheartedly just to remember the sound of your voice, the shape of your face or the way i once felt in your presence.
A process reminiscent of the pattern one's brain runs through when trying to recall a word on the tip of their tongue or sing the next lyric to a song from their childhood.
It is not unlike a dream in which the details are hazy....the feelings of familiarity remain... yet pieces, vibrant and crucial pieces are missing.... like re-watching that HORRIBLE movie on a fuzzy, black and white television.

Remember the scene in the Walt Disney version of Peter Pan where the viewers all had to clap so that poor little Tinker Bell could go from being a dim flicker of light & magically morph back into her typical glittering fairy persona? You are what would have happened had no one clapped.

We all know about heartbreak, loneliness, longing, desertion and rejection. i can hum each and every bar to the entire symphony myself... but what is this new unchartered territory where I can barely hang on to the memories that led to my own ultimate demise? This magic trick has failed & i am still sawed in half.
The audience has left. They want their money back. There was nothing to see in the first place.
It was all smoke and mirrors and now a mere bloody torso remains. Here is a paper bag to puke in.

for god's good sake....I wish i did not care. Honey, believe me you aint worth it.
In FACT i dont think i ever once consciously chose to LOVE you any more then a paraplegic chooses to have useless limbs. I used to view my love for you as an addiction to fight or a death to be mourned but now i see it more as an incurable disease that just keeps progressing.
The very thing that once awakened an unknown organ inside of me or perhaps wired my third eye open has in it's wake left permanent side effects and caused irrefutable damage.

You picked that apple off that tree and threw it as hard as you could against the concrete sidewalk and then you picked it up and did it again.