Failed Starts

No.

Lest we forget our forgotten others let now be the herald of remembrance: I regret everything, accept that worm tongued consciousness as my due, yes I have failed, made an edifice of fleeting compliments, made a martyr of untended intuition and yet still I seek the validation my constitution permits me.

How does one maintain a being when the falsehood of all, the inadequacies of one’s strengths, breach like a busted dam upon all that mattered once? But then, what do you expect when even the present can’t exist without a burgeoning past.

‘The past is not dead. It is not even past.’

These vesicles that we maintain, amend arrears to remain prolonged within, have left me forgetful of life’s aging youth’s blooming blood’s flowing. Afraid and alone I am me incarnate of me and detest it but still I remain me.

My father I give up: let thy history live through me, milk-willed and always bettered. Let us catelogue absently a progression we each wish the other. The responsibilities of those callings let us ignore and imply that we too could have being other than these blank shells we in safety occupy. Lets get with the program - a program, any program - and make calm this turmoil. Let us reminisce on false histories, let us make vanities of misinterpretations. Let us live prostrate and await a next life.

My father I’ll renounce thee but still remain me.