Please wait here until you’re useful.

Standing in the large queue of things that ebb and flow

Wondering how my future moments will be shaped.

 

If you look at me sideways, what do you see?

A messy structure, cracked bones, a body incapable of standing proudly free.

 

And if you look at me in the face, what can you feel?

The emptiness of a lone passer-by at the sea.

 

I have tried so hard in my life to decode my own messages

Looking for a sign in the blue water and the depressing sky.

 

As times went by and shadows laughed at my failures

I knew that I would just end up in this large row

Of things that serenely ebb and flow.

Writing, rewriting, erasing

There is a type of amnesia called “Anterograde amnesia” and, in contrast with retrograde amnesia, it involves the inability to create new memories, while long-term memories are retained. Imagine how you’d feel if you were to suffer from that.

Memories are, essentially, what revives us and torments us at the same time. When times get hard and unbearably stressful, when the world caves in and there is only a small window to the beauty of life, look outside; there are memories, only memories, that offer the light that never goes out, the light of our eyes, this uncontrollable desire to live, breathe again and stand up and create new beautiful things that one can remember and cherish. But there is also the other side; flip a coin and see how destructive memories can be. They can traumatize us for life, scar us deeper and deeper till there is nothing pure and clear in our bodies and hearts. Memories can be our demons, the reason why we always keep the light on at night; these abominations that live under our beds and consume us with feelings and situations we are desperately trying to repress.

What would it feel like if our memories were only remnants of the past, our names, the names of our friends, of our loved ones, and an address of a home that does not host beautiful times anymore? Every moment would pass like a soft breeze, delightfully relieving us or depressing us and fleeing, like it never occurred, like it was just a momentary flick before our eyes and then disappearing with no evidence of its existence. Moments may have other evidence, but this kind of evidence stimulates a memory; and this type of amnesia allows no room for memories.

I know that, if asked in an indirect manner, a lot of people will claim that it is better not to create memories, since this would make them live more and remember less; this would eliminate nostalgia, post-depression, any feeling that makes our stomach hurt. Living moments for their pleasure would be easier, while their long-term effect would be absent, positive or negative, delightful or depressing. But I think that one day, memories will be of great help to them; in times of depression, they will provide consolation and a sweet feeling of summer breeze; in times of dilemmas, they will provide knowledge before making decisions. They will be there. Nice or excruciating, they will mark your life with their presence and shape you in multiple ways.

Brains like blank slates are bound to make the same mistakes again and again.

Hide.

How does it feel to live in a glass castle?

the world is like a movie fast-forwarded, seductive and threatening. It draws closer and closer to you every day, only to touch the glass and retreat. Remember, you are in the castle you created in your mind.

Sometimes, people talk behind the glass, trying to get to you. You can hear the buzz, but you cannot figure out their distinct words. You feel desperate. Still, you are safe; their words cannot hurt you, and, even more, they cannot cause any feeling that will spoil your certainty.

Beautiful people are your pleasure. Your eyes love them. Sometimes, you have the overwhelming urge to break the glass and touch them with your bare fingers, run them across their skin, feel the human condition in every fibre. Immersing yourself in their magic; smelling their perfumes, singing their songs.

But you do not break the glass. Because the glass protects you from the dangers lurking beyond the beauty and the feelings and all the smells and perfumes; and it is hard to sacrifice all those efforts to protect yourself, for a crazy moment of immersion.

And you still hide…for how long?