Chipping away white paint.
Date: Aug 12th, 2007 1:25:38 am - Subscribe
Music: The Golden Exit- The Good Life
Today I realized that I had never looked at the ceiling of my parent's bathroom.
It was grimy, I decided after a moment, finding that not one better word came to my fried mind. In one corner it was significantly darker than the rest of the already off-white speckled ceiling before it exploded in random sparkles all around the small, enclosed area. A coffee-like stain splashed in ripples over the mirror that had miraculously survived crashing into the porcelain sink- and succeeded in breaking the sink in two.
I wondered for a moment if one of my parental units had stripped the ceiling bare without my knowledge, and what I was looking at was merely the remains of a once fantastically painted part of my house I had never discovered.
Again, I thought of the strange patterns as some kind of story.
But this one, I couldn't figure out the ending to... or if there even was one- or a beginning, for that matter.
I still don't really know what possessed me to look up at the ceiling of all things tonight, and more so why I pondered over it for so long. The only logical reason embedded in my brain is that for such a period of time, I had always been looking down at my feet, or simply straight ahead.
An article shone on my computer, talking about how scientists were working on a drug... some sort of procedure that would allow humans to get rid of memories they didn't want.
I stood there for a moment, not being able to breathe; much like the reaction I got after watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Only this time, the futuristic procedure was becoming a reality.
I wondered if those scientists had ever watched that movie and saw what could occur when one fools with the mind. I figured not.
When life was breathed back into me, I felt angry.
Here we were, stuck in the twenty-first century, and scientists were more worried about erasing memories than finding ways to stop the diseases that cause fragments of the mind to disappear forever.
So, what would you rather have?
The ability to erase every slightly bad memory that could teach you a lesson?
Or the ability to stop your memories from erasing themselves without your consent before you find yourself unable to even remember your lover's name?
Every time I opened my computer, I used to find a random desktop picture there, blaring something amusing.
Until I switched off the randomosity factor.
Now every time I open up my computer, I see the words 'Let Go!' in bold white lettering above a dead dandelion.
And tonight, I looked up.
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