To be insane and psychotic that is what I'm being called
The tendencies that I find myself face;
To lose my memories, my personality;
To forget myself,
Only to be reborn time after time again,
With new experiences as they are 'new'
Only to be forgotten again...
I cannot help but to call this a curse...
Despite its treasures of being able to forget
And unable to relive segments of life
Which I found to be
I find myself in debt of also forgetting
Moments of greatness - fond memories
Of gatherings with loved ones,
Friends and family alike...
The long feigned desire of that smile...
No amount of pain
Neither the threshold of human capacity of ignorance
Could equate to such a paradise
Of thoughts, of wonders, of life...
And yet do I find myself in this cursed curse...
To be 'blessed' with this thing at the top,
To be 'blessed' with the ability to think deeply and profoundly,
To be 'blessed' with the inability to sleep,
To be 'blessed' with the immediate misunderstanding with others...
To be 'blessed' with the ability to forget.
How would one preserve one's memories?
Experiences in such a way that he could relive
That very temporal stability at the shut of the eyes,
How could one cope with the loss of such memories?
An unimaginable extremity - they say write;
But it could not possibly amount to any measure of specifications and details
That one endures through the six senses,
The sixth especially, more than any other...
My fear is not of that of a menial thing - to sit there,
Being fearful of not relocating that memory again;
My fear is much, much greater,
It is the one fear that exceeds all others,
Even my fear for my own death,
My fear for God;
It is simply, the fear of oneself,
The fear that comes with the loss of memories,
Which, inevitably leads to the loss of oneself forever,
And to find oneself change forever to a person,
whom may not want to relive that moment again...
I fear him.