Blog: 2023-2-04, "Seven/Sixteen"

Seven/Sixteen: An attempt to resurrect and revisit illusory memories

Sunday April 02, 2023 05:07 P.M.
running cat

living through past memories

No one, needless to say, who shares a delusion ever recognizes it as such. ~stupid idiot

I feel like there is a regression that comes with any memory recall.

This weekend, there was a challenge: Drink seven beers in seventeen minutes. For the release of this album, we decided to drink one beer for each song. The catch is that each song is just under two minutes, making this task extremely daunting for people such as myself who don't regularly engage in drinking.

As soon as the first track High begins, each of us race to annhilate any trace of the liquid in our cans from ever existing outside of our stomachs. It goes down easy; we all celebrate. The next two are just about the same. By the time we reach the fourth, my hands are trembling. My head is pounding. My torso feels like it is going to be ripped apart by it's own weight.

By the fifth drink, and the song It's Getting Cold, I Still Want you is finishing out. I realise my drink is only half empty (pessimist). I press my mug to my lips, in an effort to slide down the remaining liquid without my senses being aware. They awaken. My stomach twists and contorts. I am at capacity. I watch the seconds on the screen tick away. 5 seconds of the song left. If I don't finish a beer each song, I am disqualified. The pressure of recognition from my friends weighs down on me. I need to prove that this wasn't all for nothing. I tilt my head back and allow some amber fluid to trickle down my throat. Now, I think, I am at the mercy of the natural laws of gravity that govern this world, and my own actions and inhibitions will no longer be able to prevent me from this consumption. I gag. i barely get any liquid down before I feel a rare throw-up coming on. It is not often that my body goes through this rejection of matter, but has been increasing in frequency as I age. I'm glad my brain is more developed.

As the others finish the challenge, I rush outside, trash bag in hand. I throw my face inside the region where waste resides and reach into myself. I pull nothing out. Too far gone.

As I recall this memory, I start to think about my memories. All my past lives. This night will now be among them. Whoever I am now will never feel the same that night, and if I try to be, I will just be a carbon copy. I sometimes feel in a delusion where I am at the desk of a massive machine, and I have to answer prompts based solely on data from each of my lives. I enter a room and I have to search the database for room entering behavior. All this meta-cognition makes me tired. I want to be free.

When I revisit memories, I get caught in them. I try to reconstruct them piece by piece. By the smell, the setting, and the feelings I felt. I think this is the same for everyone, but lately they have been so sticky. This past year, I find I am able to think about nothing but memories and legacy. How will I be remembered I often wonder. It makes me feel selfish that I need to feel some achievement in order to attribute myself with any self worth.

I want to be delusional. I want to live in a world where reality is agreed upon by all the parties existing within. I understand that there is a greater reality outside this, but I don't think it is healthy for me anymore to consider the whole world. I don't know why I started with this long story about a relatively small achievement in the index of Human History, but part of me hopes that enough of these useless memories can overwrite all the ones I had prior. I want to fill my head with static sometimes. But when I think these thoughts and remember these memories, I want to pop the bubble that is the thought in my head and let the explosion cover the rest of my mind in it's shrapnel, so that I can be overtaken by these nostalgic feelings and experience a rush of dopamine.

Select one:

I hope I find this stability. I feel like I am on the right path in the end, It is just a lot to feel at this point in time. Maybe I hit the lottery and this is The Best Of All Possible Worlds. It is impossible to imagine that is the case for anyone, but the thought that there could be a person out there where this is true is intriguing. I don't need The Best Of All Possible Worlds, I just need enough to shine a dim ball of light on my eyelids so I don't sleep in a void.

Quiz Time!!!!

Is it better to:

We trade liquor for blood, in an attempt to tip the scales ~Conor Oberst

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~Thank you, and with love, I end this message at 6:30 P.M.