i hope you learned something.
The gift of memory is an awful curse.
- Ben Gibbard
often i find that i am left
with dim recollections and
half-blurred memories
that revise themselves to
a point of something
damn-near utter obscurity.
smudged remembrances beg
the question:
what exactly happened here?
wracking my brain for answers,
desiring finer resolution, i find
no clearer perspective to these
pixilated enterprises of the past,
and these still-frames of history
become something tantamount
to impressionist paintings.
is there validity in saying,
"that was a dark time, but
now i'm much wiser and
much, much stronger?"
if those informing and
strengthening glimmers of
light are inarticulable,
has anything really been learned,
or does my delusion grow
with false understanding of
foggy retrospect?
where's the light switch?
it has to be somewhere.
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