On being absent-minded.

Last night, I remembered almost far too much. It's like trying to and failing in catching up in a book in one night, so much so you've forgotten the exact lines, but now you sort of understand the plot a lot better.

My right hand does things I didn't know it could do. My left hand doesn't let me know the things it can do for good reason.

I took a long walk with a good friend, to the edge and back. I lost almost everything I found out, but remembered the basic details. I recovered part of personality, as it were. I realized there's a reason why I tried to be absent-minded. It's a good thing that even if I get too far ahead of myself, there's a reason why. I've satisfied curiosity, for once, as well as anyone else's who would care to know. And though the Truth is ever changing and ever wandering, so am I, and I will catch up with it some day. I sort of know everyone else's guesses are wrong to some extent, and I realized that's why everyone has fears. You shouldn't fear failure, you'll only be blocking yourself from acting in a manner that suits you. I've for, the most part, reclaimed who I am and now I lack far less doubt that I ever have since I've started to think to much.

She's out there with my keys somewhere...

I try to live my real life as secretly as possible.

The truth behind all things is the hardest thing to really hold. I pretend to be coherently crazy, under a persona I invented for myself. I've held original thought somewhere buried in me, letting each wave of the world batter me while I maintain, until I can speak my peace. It's said that you must have the suspension of belief to endure a play or movie, and that one has to give somebody the benefit of doubt before they can judge them. I feel like a heretic unto myself, taking everything in, despite how it feels. I feel the real truth tug at the back of my mind like guilt would on your gut...

That being said, not everything I've learned has been false. There are true thinkers and innovators always prepared to lead the front and find their own Truth, not prepared to think inside the box or outside of it, but to build a better theory in order to find a lost cat.

I respect those people the most.

There are believers and followers, and I can't fault them for it being their decision, not everyone wants to lead. I will look down on those, however, who call themselves a believer of any sense who puts down others to serve themselves or their belief.

Keep in mind, all is fair in love and war, as long as you're truly fighting for it. Sometimes people used to have entire constellations named after them. I could only hope to have my tombstone have a single word that is universally as acknowledged or understood as sets of distant galaxies and stars.

I feel like I rarely write fluff, and when I do, it's almost too much to sound true and yet is.

I wonder what I've done to myself. I feel like a blindfolded escape artist with tied, handcuffed, and padlocked hands who's forgotten all of his tricks.

And then got amnesia.

And in a world of people who think they know who they are, it only compounds my confusion.

It's just a matter of time until I turn all the locks.

I hope she knows we're getting engaged this summer.

I mean, really. I doubt she does know, or even suspect, or cares to think it'd be true for even a moment. Or maybe she already does know ahead of time and has already planned out the ceremony in her head. I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know.

I wonder where she is at all times, and I hold that wonder far back in my mind to keep my mind from being constantly consumed by the desire to be nearby.

I get jealous easily. I am a jealous yet moral person, and I say that I hope whoever I have faith in would do what I'd want them to do in that situation, yet not do it because I want them to, but does it because they want to and it helps that my consideration is similar.

Easier said, I hope that she's like me but better.

This post probably has the most tags I've ever crammed in, ever.
So I think I should justify it.

Ok, recently, I've lost my mind several times, and proceeded to find it, whereupon I was surprised at it having learned far more than it knew before. The problem in this being, a lot of what it learned was a mix of things both true and false, of things either everyone else already knew, or things no-one else knew at all, including myself.

Which really shows there's more to the Truth than anyone knows. Even I don't know how it will all go down, I can only make my plans and live in the moment, trying to catch the next wave. It's a dizzying height every time I go up, but it's better than drowning or half-assing it like some do. Or not even bothering to go out into the sea like so many choose to do.

... Sometimes, I think she's the Moon and I'm the Sun. It's the only thing I can compare her to when she's not around. At her best and most unique, the classic sliver Crescent kind, waxing. When she's with me in spirit, a New Moon. When she gets in my head and drives me crazy, a Full Moon.

There are other times I think of, where the real Truth is she's my Sun, but I've yet to see her show that side, so I'll keep waiting.

I hope she knows I love her. It's true, there was one other true love I had, but she died long ago, true story. [Barring time travel or anything else, that is.]

Maybe we've both changed so much in not seeing or talking to each other that I'm utterly wrong, and to be honest I'm wasting my time over a long daydream, that's lasted for awhile. Maybe I should be dating and getting out there meeting new people and making friends and maybe I don't really know what I'm doing and I'd bring us both down if we ever saw each other.

Then again, she doesn't really doubt herself at all. So I shouldn't either.

Plus, I want to get married before The World ends in 2012.

I think she'd find it funny that I told people I was married to this girl when I was thinking of her, or that whenever I was making plans I told people I was engaged. Though she'd not find it so humorous that when I was looking for her in other women I called myself single. The Truth is open to interpretation, as every day I wake up as a different person on a different day.

I just wonder what her interpretation is.

Sometimes I feel quietly cool.

There are times when my mind wanders in the night, looking for clues to who I really am.

Other times it's not. Sometimes it lingers on yet, leaving me unable to sleep.

I feel like I die a little bit every time I sleep, as I surrender much of what I know to my subconscious,

which buries it for future reference, as though there are some things I need to forget.

And yet, I learn so much while I sleep at night, as I wonder why my real history is a mystery even unto myself, and I try to recall who I really am.

It feels like a temporary sacrifice, just to keep living.

I dream of a week where I can be myself and not worry about who I really am.

I want a day to be lost in without doubt about where I'm going.

If I ever get lost enough, I'm sure I'll run into the truth just by sheer improbability.

Give me a million dollars and I'd run.

Give me a million dollars and I'd have a dream.

With a dream, an 8th day isn't so faraway.