| Add Memory | Add To Friends | |
| TaoMan1121 (profile) wrote, on 5-2-2005 at 8:31pm | |
| Current mood: concerned Music: Wilco - Spiders (Kidsmoke) Subject: Here's my thing... |
|
| The difference between you and me on this one thing: I know how it all ends. I know how you will feel, how I will felt, how I felt, because I've already been through this. We react how we are programmed to react, and besides, when the outcome is what it is, there is no other way. You'd like to think there's not a difference between knowing and not knowing, but that's just optimism getting in your way. I may not remember every detail, every line, the slow, sweet erosion of time has seen to that, but the climax and the resolution sticks out like a jagged edge coming out of my temple. A jagged little pill that's still too hard to swallow. I thought to myself, over and over, why does it have to end like this? Why does it have to be this way? And every single time I tell myself that there's no other way it could have went down. You write, and you write, and before you know it, you've written yourself into a corner and you are stuck with what you've got, whether you like it not. And it's true, you can't go back afterwards. You can't look at everything that came before and not see it through the grey tint that the world is now filtered through. And, oh my god, when you combine the promise of what's to come and what's happening with something so utterly real, when the line between what's fact and what's fiction converges, that's when you reach your lowest point and when those scars are formed, and when that symbol is forever etched into your skin. It's never as good as that one moment, that payoff, the moment where the feeling sucks you in so competely and you drown in it, opening your mouth as you do so to let it in faster. And this is what I'm trying to protect you from, kiddo. And I fear I'm already too late. 5.8.98. And it's me returning to that spot where I felt (we both felt) just a little too much. The trajectory of the molded plastic as it flew. The mounting insignificance of what I was witnessing balanced with the cruel irony of the fact that what I was feeling is what they were prophesizing. That single hour and a half and how it shaped everything that came after it. And now, seven years later, I get to relive it again, not because I have to, because I'm forcing myself to, but because I don't have a choice. It's my destiny. Once you start something like this, you've got to see it through. Welcome Jason, there are six days remaining. The time is near. |
|
| Post A Comment |
|
Leeder5421 | 05-03-05 1:49am I'm confused, what happens in six days? And what happened on 5-8-98?
|