If I sat on a rock, sometimes it would say "I knew you'd do that". I would try to forget
all the things that have been represented by the past, because none of it have anything to
do with Now, if you don't let it. But it is difficult because your mind-machine is not the
erasing kind like they make in dead cities. No. They are the kind that pull and feed and
scold and clutch. I used to think if I sat down in a different way, maybe all the weight
and exhausted energy will collapse down my buttocks and sit on the rock too. Then I
could sheepishly move away and begin to run so it wouldn't catch me. The world, however,
is different. There are all these magic floating things that exist but don't exist that put up
memories on a big flashing screen that penetrate so deep into your skin you cannot help
but. But remember. These things compose of: Maybe, perhaps, later/ All the words that
remind me of you/ Like shackles. Of course it's horrid because now you're a little bummed.
And this swells until you want to do something silly, like say Hello, when you know you
shouldn't. You understand, but it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter if you don't. We're just the same.
The Very Worst Thing is when you wonder what is happening on the other side, knock knock,
and there's nothing there that belongs to you. Not even your name. Not even a single love-speck.