"The Unrealeased Letter" (edited)

 

I often wonder where I am at a given time.  I do not mean in a physical sense.  I mean in a mental sense.  I often wonder why my mind thinks the way it does or why if functions the way it wants to, and the answers never come when you want them to.

What is the definition of confusion?  Is it simply a subtle disease that we have all accepted as another facet of everyday life, or is it an epidemic that nobody wants to admit exists?

I am confused, infected with some sort of delirium that ravages the mental state and hides itself away from the physical only to come back later as some sort of panging in the heart or a degree of insatiable desire, a desire to find out why the panging continues to torment.  This circle of mystery reconnects itself in the form of disorientation.

I must let go of my confusion.  I will probably imagine myself many years from now digging this page from a foreign box somewhere in an attic and reading about the confusions that were once so panicking but have led somewhere to the revelation of an alternate future.

This hope of an “alternate future” is some sort of sign to do something in the present to cause it to occur.  The paradox is, after trying to make this happen, what will the “alternate future” then be called?  It will no longer be what it is; it will be what it has been and more.

It is obvious that this makes no sense to you as it does to me at this moment in time.  I will know that in the future, I myself will not remember the reasons why I am writing this here in the cold of a bookstore outdoor patio.  I myself will not remember the adventures of this single, insignificant year that has had the promise of several lifetimes to come.

Is it worth it to remember?  Is it worth it to even try to save a small portion of the events that one can only witness through physical touch, taste, sight, smell, and feel?  Is it worth it to record the loves and desires of this microscopic dot on the celestial plane of the universe?  Is it worth it to continue on this one-sided conversation, this safe, one-sided conversation and not explore the communication that is the next step from actual speech?

I hide behind my words because I am afraid to bring them to my mouth.  I hide behind my words because I have failed enough and do not want to fall once more.  The safety net is too far from my vision, and at a quick glance, I believe it does not exist.  I will take the practice jump now and face it later…