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the_deleted_spaces
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Doar
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the letters and sounds and sentences i have deleted
for you?
for me for you?
a constant sorrow
for you
for me.
sometimes i really hate my fingers
typing what they seem to have
expressed
but what the fuck.
expression is the base of poetry
and life is poetry
isn't it?
.
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130613
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... |
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unhinged
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the idealism becomes colored with reality
beliefs change
the web expands and contracts
of all the contingencies
this
i never imagined
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171227
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... |
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Risen
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I think a lot about the deleted spaces. The deleted memories. The deleted memories. The silent records.
It always bothered me in philosophy class. The theory of mind that we are the sum of our memories and experiences... but most of those are things we cannot actually remember. The day-to-day of a year gets replaced with snapshots of moments, and as years go by years get clumped together. Like a carpet wearing thin, frayed, patchy, under the pacing feet. The parts we try to scrub clean. The parts we erase so we can live with ourselves, or others. The parts we don't look at so we can hope to forget.
When you cannot see the future, when you aren't on a path, it is easy to spend time in the past, looking back. Trying to piece things together, figure them out. But the deleted spaces, they change from colons to dashes to ellipses and then finally to question marks.
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171231
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... |
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Soma
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I thought about it. It concerned me.
"I am the sum of my memories." Am I not?
I am what I choose to believe I am. What I have chosen to not delete. I am 28 save folders with a few files each, these alone deemed worthy of the desktop, and everything else goes primarily into the trash. I guess in this way, I am the_deleted_spaces. I am defined by my missing_pieces.
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180103
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... |
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unhinged
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once_again
the threats turned out to be
empty
i did what you taught me but i got to the point quicker than normal of not wanting to continue the back and forth. i knew the only way i could do that was to delete the whole thread of conversation. i pushed the delete button and the desire to write it back into existence emerged even as my finger hit the screen.
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180103
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