Agerlcy😍

One who asks a question is a fool for five minutes; one who does not ask a question remains a fool forever.

You want to know what goes on in my head? I think about memories and why I can’t remember details of my own life. I only remember shards. I only remember fragments. I remember one Halloween when I was really tiny, I was at a Walmart and my mother put on a scary mask to freak me out, I flicked her off and that Halloween I spent it inside of a dark room. It felt like an eternity, but it was probably only for a night. How can a kid be so vulgar? You learn from your parents the most, monkey see, monkey do, right? I remember smoking my first blunt behind a friend’s backyard around the age of 14, I woke up as a 23 year old on my bed. The longest high of my fucking life. I’ve been sober for roughly a month, give or take. I still don’t remember a thing. You know something funny? I do remember everything pertaining to love though. I remember every detail of the who and the when. Who is the person I’ve come to love and there has been many. When is the time I couldn’t get enough but decided it was time to just let things go. I remember the way she kicked the back of my seat and said, I miss you, can we be friends again? I never cold shouldered anyone because I was never one to say no. I’ve made a Mount McKinley out of me. I have lost myself in words, but the words can’t give you the right apologies, they just give you another means to try– so I’ve been trying to apologize even if being forgiven was already on my plate– I have a hunger for saying I’m sorry. I remember getting my first job and thinking I was better than the Chinese people because they didn’t speak English. The lady asked me, then why are you working here? She changed me forever in many ways than one. She told me she came to America because she wants a better life for her children. Arrogance left my veins when she said she saw me as a son, a mother I’ll never have, but surely one I’ve won. I may be arrogant, but I do work hard. I guess I have that running in my veins, for all of my anger, I’ve learned to put it to good use. But I’m not perfect. I like to do drugs. Lots of it. We are flawed people after all, might as well play the role well. So you don’t learn anything about society because it has never taught you to be more than a happy sheep we were bred for, in many ways, I’ve been howling. I’m waiting for the wolf within me to eat my wool, I’m waiting for my heart and soul– somewhere inside of me, one day, I’ll learn to be made from gold. You want to know what goes on inside of my head? How she looks at me and tells me, is this all you want out of life? Is this it? You want to stay here forever? Darling, I’m not privileged. The only thing I’ve got made from money are the thoughts in my head, I’ll be writing books about you, I’ll be writing songs about you. One day, I’ll have you as a cover up of when I was innocent. I really did love you. I loved you like how anyone could have. I did at one point. I did not want your body. I didn’t want a thing but for you to be trustworthy. I demand loyalty amongst men and women because if you bend that, there’s no going back. Not towards a Capricorn at least. I knew what you did before anyone has told me and yes, I’ve beat this thing over the head a million different ways, but it never sounds right. You say, infatuation. You say, a mistake. I say youth has made us stupid, but age has made us willing to succumb to the blindness of our ways. I’ve been spilling and I’ve been writing. I haven’t lived life, but I’ll die to live it. I’m 23 and I’ll be 24 soon. I will have grey hair one day, I might have children, I might not. They say everything in your life happens for a reason, the reason is you. Why? Let me tell you in exact order of the why. You never learned to love, so you don’t look for it at home. You go out and have fun, thinking now and here, this is the moment I want to live in. Your friends they fight each other. They talk shit about each other behind backs that look away with this thing we call trust. And then you meet a girl and stop coming around. They’ll say, he loves a girl more than he does his boys. Friendship will save you, but love will make you. My friends weren’t brilliant, but they were my friends. Every one stops talking to you eventually, you’ll make new friends. You’ll find new lovers. You’ll find a different reality to not be upset about and when they tell you that time heals all wounds, you won’t believe it in the now, but you will one day. You don’t need to text them anymore. You won’t need to call them anymore. You won’t miss them that much. You won’t love them as much. You’ll find new things to fill your life with. You’ll find new things to be proud of. You’ll pick up something else to do. Maybe you’re planning to write music. Maybe you’re planning to settle down. Maybe you’re planning to change how your body looks, get like supermodels and the famous superstars. If they can do it, you can do it too. We’re not rich, maybe we are. We’re all born with gold, some of us just became fools to our own. We put labels onto everything, it’s a way to keep our sanity in check. Is that your girlfriend? Are you two a thing now? How long has it been? Do you love her? Are you happy? Why does it even matter to you? You don’t care. It’s just more useless gossip we’ll spread like disease. It’s this life we’re living in. The earth that we made. It’s the food you’ll eat at 5 am that doesn’t rot when left out for five years, they’ll come back as weight you won’t lose even if you’ve been to the gym five days a week. It’s the hearts you’ve broken, you’ll love someone new and it’ll break you again. It’s the memories we’ve forgotten, in many ways, we’re far less human than when we’ve once started. We are living in an age where the digits next to our likes and dislikes match our personality, we’re a hollow civilization trying to pretend that we’re pretty, that we’re happy. We’re a bit broken and that’s okay, that’s why we have the artists who plans to pave our way. That’s why we have galleries and museums. That’s why old masterpieces are so expensive. We take out of life with what we left it. We die with our lives in our palms asking ourselves, was it worth it? Did you live a worthy life? I haven’t lived much, but I’ve loved enough to die a million different lives. One day I’ll love a florist who only wants to shower the world in more flowers, save the bees, she’ll say. One day I’ll love a poet who wants to sprinkle icing on top of every mistake I’ve ever made, let’s save our dessert, we’ll have it after sex, she’ll say. One day I’ll love a writer who wants to squeeze stories into my eyes, save the stars, I’ll write them back into you some day, she’ll say. One day I’ll love myself enough to tell my children, you can be whatever you want to be, because I believe in you, I’ll say. It’s corny and it’s cliché, but believe me when I tell you this. If my father told me that simple phrase with a smile, even if he didn’t mean a word of it– if he did it when I was much smaller, much more delicate, much more gentle, much more open, much more whole, much more vibrant, much more happy, much more of me than I’ll ever be, much more of when I was looking for guidance, much more of things I’ll always look for, much more of my inner child that I’ve been suffocating, and much more of when I wanted to love everything– In more ways than one,I will have remembered my memories.