Can you ever not sleep because you mind it filled with
memories: memories of what can potentially happen, of your future, of the
posibilites.
Memories you can taste on the tip of your tongue even if they have
yet to exist, flooding your brain and bursting it wide with potential.
Me, I
have these memories. These fleeting lost seconds of my future self, that
diaspear before I can grab hold. Visions of potential that arise, overtaking my mind like a tornado. These
taunting dancing shadows I endlessly chase.
What will be can’t be known but can
be imagined in its most perfect, or most imperfect form. What’s living if its
not living now, not filling this moment to the brim with all that is possible
and impossible. Striving to fill the future the same way and lifting your glass
to cheers to the past that was.
Memories are mystical like that. They appear
when they have yet to exist, the come back when they should have long died,
they creep up and grab you at moments of surrealism in which you question what
is truth. Their hands are slimy,
intenste and gripping. You think they have vanished only to knock over a
bucket in the corner of your mind spilling the contents within onto your thoughts,
staining the film roll that plays a loop of your life.. They infuse joy, sorrow,
longing, excitement, and fulfillment into your days. They are the pulse of
existence and the push to move forward. They are the reason this thing called
living is worth it.
Make them well, dream of them often, use them wisely, never
leave them behind, and always search for them in the future.
xoxo
Lexi
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