Friday, September 2, 2011

There has always been this delirious dichotomy in me. I hoard and I let go to waste, I keep, and treasure, and think everyday til dawn in all the possible ways to keep time from passing by, by making small memorizations of moments, conversations, faces I have loved and I have loved so many faces. Lovers and criminals, movie stars and strangers who get lost in the fog.

During the very same process of remembering, I start to forget. The curve of cheekbones, the luminous tone of someone’s skin, a crooked smile, the gleaming of teeth, sad eyes, I forget and forget and then cry when I cannot remember. There is not amount of work that could keep me from trying to save all these memories, every diary I’ve written with extensive descriptions of dinners, lovemaking, special moments. Every single photograph taken hoping to freeze what could never be frozen.

I want to remember because of love yet I forget because of hurt, the terrible hurt of time washing over what the mind tries to hide in a sacred place. Time steals everything. I came to this realization at a very young age yet still, I’m not ready to part with my moments, the kisses I remember, the love I have given and has been given to me with splendor.

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