Life in a daze, floating through waking and sleep, frustrated by the absolutes imposed by reality. Memory as an enemy. I want to forget everything. I don't want to be a part of anything or anyone else. I want to be completely detached, to cut out, to drift off taking nothing with me and leaving nothing behind.
And as memory acts as my enemy, it builds and more and more is added to it. Each month that passes is another volume of entries into my memory, bits of information that I can reflect upon, talk about, carry like baggage for the rest of my life. It gets added up in here.
Memories assault me. New Jersey. The red house, the yellow house, the same house, the white house. I have brothers? The 'rents? The list goes on and on and I can dig out countless memories that I would rather have erased.
A memory of Shiho and me in New Jersey. High school. A warm, sunny, Spring day at the 'rent's house. We only know English and the U.S. and we're together. She sees me a certain way. I see her another way. We couldn't guess how little we would know of each other's lives ten years hence. So much that we would never discuss, so much that we would have to lie to each other about.
Memories distilled. We are different people and I still love her. If only we hadn't lost so much time. If only we could build something good out of all the bad that has happened in either my life or our lives.
Not much matters here in this daze. The 'rents are far away and I'm untouchable. My oppression is my own. So much doesn't matter anymore. I'm losing touch with myself. My skin bothers me, itching and welting up nightly. It's never been so severe before. The hearing in my right ear is going funny. I don't think it's permanent though.
It would feel so good to shed this skin. To head up high above the earth and hover and watch and see everything happen. Just to observe from a distance. Life as a spectator sport. Life can be. Life is.
