Memoryyyyyyyyy! Ah!

Come
As you are
As you were
As I want you to be
As a friend
As a friend
As a known memory

I don’t stop the music…for a while…And, as if taking that as an invitation, memory seeps in. From broken crevices. From ventilated spheres.It comes as it is, as it was… as I want it to be…I had sidled it to the farthest corners…but it again sidles up to me…Memoryyyyyyyy, ah! Memoryyyyyyyy, ah! Memoryyyyyy, ah! Memoryyyyyy? yeah!
There is no stopping Cobain…And there is no stopping memory! The night is silent, serene. But memory conspires to break the calm. And initiates an upheaval. An uproar. The crescendo of memory is such, it tears apart the fabrics of peace, it jostles back to life the sleeping nerves…Memoryyyyyy ah, memoryyyyy ah, memoryyyy ah!

I don’t know what to make of memory. I am not good at that. In fact, I am not good at anything. I am not much of anything. I don’t know what makes and unmakes me.I don’t know what becometh of me, each moment. Where do I go? Where do I keep going? What line do I follow? What faith, what ideology, what principles? I just go on…Away from all… Away from memory… I just move on…But memory is mad…It keeps coming back to me, again and again…And memory, I tell you, can be no good too. Like me.

Tonight, memory seems to have lost it…It has caused an upheaval…There is no stopping memory’s mayhem, no controlling its commotion…It does not come with any warning…It is not regulated and unleashes itself on my unguarded moments…And it further accentuates my sense of futility…

Take your time
Hurry up
The choice is yours
Don’t be late
Take a rest
As a friend
As a known memory
Memory ah
Memory ah
Memory ah

Memory opens floodgates of further memories. They are joined together, grooving to the moment’s music, leaving me running for the cover.I can’t sweep with their sway. i must hold on to my ground, must stay tied to what keeps me tied, stay attached to the strings that have kept me attached. If I relent, i lose myself. There are just two ways. It has to be either MEmory or me. But doesn’t even memory have ME..So, is it possible that I am a MEmory? But do I want to be a memory…urm…May be… But as of now, as I have virtually shut myself on the world and shut myself down completely, there is more of me in my world…ME..MOREEEEE…Yeah!!!

Come
Doused in mud
Cept in bleach
As I want you to be
As a trend
A a friend
As a known memory ah
Memory ah
Memory ah
Memory ah

Memory keeps making things worse…flooding the dark, dusty patches inside…
Why should memory come to ME? Why should memory BE? I don’t want anything, anyone to be a memory. I want everything , everyone around.Always.

P.S. More of memory, later…provided remembrance doesn’t forget it…

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