Today, I fight irrelevance. I wrestle with it as one wrestles with shadows or the urge to *****.
I must admit, it is an overdramatized, drawn out tussle. In my head, it is as if the world is collapsing, memories reduced to cinders, my being turned to ash. But in reality it is just another passing of the day, as one lends itself to the next, the nights growing shorter, all is well it seems.
I cannot come to agreeable terms with fate. I cannot accept that, for certain people, I have already lived my moments of importance.
Each time I remember the few fragments of intimacy in my life, I become less convinced that I should suffer in passivity. There is a pang of desperation reverberating in my heart that moves me to action.
Somedays, I wish no more to reminisce, I say silly things. "I shall recreate my memories, but this time with urgency, vivaciously, with life and love, and create from it new memories that I will struggle to believe are mine."
I go out and find no one waiting. Had I not been here long enough to have at least one person think of me? Such are my thoughts, as I look pensively at the moon with memories of a head resting against my shoulder or conversations with people whose names I have forgotten, swirling in my head.