That thing. I have a vague memory of it, a fading away picture. I remember it belonging to me. It isn’t like I wanted to forget about it, it’s just that so much time has passed that I don’t even have the potential to remember it. Though I might not remember the thing itself, I do remember a little about it.
That thing was of no use to me when I first got in possession of it, it wasn’t of any use to me for some more time if I remember correctly. I don’t have a very good memory, but I do remember that there was this one point in time when I first used it. I had surprised myself. I never thought that something I considered so unworthy, so meaningful would fulfil me as much. That thing was finally of use to me, but that’s what I thought and cared about. I never even stop for a second to consider if I should do something to keep it in my possession.
I was obsessed with momentary happiness and satisfaction. Clouded with dusty and shrouded comfort, I neglected and continued thinking that it belonged to me and wouldn’t ever come a time when I require it and it isn’t there. Abandonment and satisfaction sound like two normal, harmless words but they caused me to lose that thing. That thing was of great importance to me. I am not normal, or at least I don’t like to think that I’m normal. I didn’t feel the need of the thing when it was going away, I didn’t feel the need when I had use of it again, I managed somehow and that gave me the worst possible definition of strength that I would later come to regret. I lost the thing.
It was in my memory for some time and then it went somewhere, somewhere deep and dark and moist. I hate moist places, so, I never felt like reaching for it which was the cause of that new found strength. Now, this day, I’m in chaos, I don’t have anything left. I long for the slightest bit of dryness but I’m drowned in moisture. Then it comes to my mind, the thing, moisture consumed it as well, maybe I’ll find it. I soon realized, the thing wasn’t a big part of me, it should have been but it wasn’t, how could I expect to find in the never ending moisture where I was trapped. It was cold and I wanted some comfort again, no matter how vague which brings me here.
I still don’t remember that thing but I want it. I hope I’d never lost it. I hope I never thought that it was a possession.