on the bathroom floor

I now realise I've tried too hard to regain what I know I've lost. All my thoughts and emotions when I was younger are gone. One day the ticks and stars will be gone too. I now know too much and I've reached a stage where I can't be fooled by what I used to be taken in by.

It's only made me miserable.

My flaw? Being overly sentimental and I now know that all this while it was just a desparate plea for the past to show its face again. I have an aching need to record everything in the present down, and language just irritates me because it dilutes and what's left is only a messy reflection. And today it reached a point where I had to question my intention.

Do I feel like my self in the future will be a new person? Will letting go of the moments leave them wedged in history forever, and why, in the first place am I even concerned with remembering who I am now?

I'm losing motivation to write anything more right now cuz my scrawls here are just words. Just black or white pixels arranged on a screen. This post, like everything else will just be stored as an archive and tucked away. And when I'm not careful, when I've forgotten, it'll be gone.