The Memory Box 2.0

hello world. Hello Imaginary Friends.
How is everyone doing today? I hope this all finds you well. I am simply me. Tonight I cannot nor would I ask for more than that. Discard your romantic fantasies about dying and your trembling virginal gifts dear Imaginary Friends. Tonight none of them matter. It is about exploration and reflection and perhaps redemption. Of all this no one is sure. Depression as a construct, which if I am remembering correctly is where we left off last night. A construct who oh so rudely lays about draping more and more of itself over you as if you were a decorative piece on some long neglected bedroom dresser. Covered in dust and despair. Both sad and angry because your shoes are untied, maybe  not so much that they are untied really but that you are just such an enormous piece of shit that you cannot even properly set your own garments.
volumes of issues

You tend to Find yourself doubled over, lost in a sea of time and you wonder what the fuck happened exactly? Just five years ago everything was fine. I sat with similar people who I assure you had similar faces and, not one bit of this felt like the closing scenes of Ghost. Only you aren’t the bad guy. Than again, maybe YOU ARE. Whose to decide, you could look to your rag tag group of adventures and grasp Certainty by it’s shoulder. You could scream for it to tell you what you did wrong…it couldn’t though. Your whole party has had confused cast upon them.

it speaks volumes they say

It all sounds much more dramatic than it really is doesn’t it?

I imagine you there scoffing towards me, perhaps you tell me to grow up. To get over myself. I don’t blame you. I am fairly certain that at some point in my life I was you. I though have this amazing gift. Yes I am calling this a gift, through all my nonsense and my breakdowns and the buildups I have learned. I have learned things about myself, about my wife, my kids, my extended family, friends etc etc etc. Nothing new mind you. Not exactly.

Well than sir, what the fuck did you learn if not something new? You see my beautiful imaginary friends…that is the turn. This…this whole thing always has been and always will be the screw.

To understand what it is I am rambling about allow me to paint you a picture. You can indeed learn something new about people that was in fact not new at all. It is your understanding of a shared experience. Not one shared experienced in parallel mine mirroring yours in unison but more so a convergent evolution of sorts. Like breeding pens. Which I suppose is just as fair a metaphor for such a topic as any. I have in my time here on this satellite of ours watched others talk of their depressions; I dabbled in my own, no not dabbled…that sounds like I was toying with it. Never. No not ever. I suppose I was luckier than I had known. I was able to converse with many of you and perhaps at time lend a needed ear or just something to cry on. No names. Our time was not our own so why specify and brand. Well I now begin to understand what you meant.

For that much I sincerely say I am sorry for repeatedly telling you we could talk whenever you felt like. Had I fully …fully known…no…understood that the time you would have liked might have been more so right than or that it could be at a time when you were not capable of mentioning it to me. Had I known what I know now,…. well hindsight and all. Those talks would have perhaps been different.

So as I said, this is a gift of sorts. For it allows me to understand. How I regret being able to understand it and oh how I regret that you ever understood it at all. To know it is both entirely beautiful and absolutely horrifying at the same time. Though keep in mind this is just how it is for me.

I don’t feel things right at all. No not ever when I should. So while I am up at night pondering why the single most beautiful woman in the world waste her time addressing me in pleasantries I contemplate smashing my own face into a mirror over and over again. Only the mirror isn’t there. it is not a reflection it’s just me.So whatever David Lynch type shit might make sense of that I ascribe to it. I take note. I take note that I might apply it outward for you on another day. When I am more myself and while I hope to not find you in such sorts; were perhaps I to find you in such a way, I would be better suited to assist somehow.

I promise you this nobody thinks a single fucking thing you think. It is never the same, Remarkably similar as it might be; your delusional hell is not mine nor mine yours. Your hell could be a grain of sand, that grain of sand is your beach though in an ocean of things none of us can truly appreciate or comprehend. I promise you I understand that much now. If it doesn’t make sense to you yet don’t beat yourself up about it. I can’t say for sure that I ever really intended to try understand this as I do now. For fucks sake Susan sit down, you’re several blogs behind if you are still looking for Certainty! This whole mess of letters is growing more and more surreal and more meta/4th wall -ish as it grows. It will be a towering mass with a patchwork face, dressed in Certainties bones it will carry Anger’s sword, when it comes for us late in the night. I know it sounds crazy but it makes me chuckle and, frankly I really fucking need that.

I mean it though, no one really understands, they understand in a way that is enough but not in the way you want them to. If they did you would throw yourself on kindling because you never wanted them too anyway. (I am aware of the structure of my words, what I have said and all that they imply. I am asking you to uphold the suspension of disbelief here and in that better understand.) They shouldn’t.

So what I understand now is so very much a part of you or them or us, that is in no way new to you. No. It is the same game, the same day, the same fake out, the same lie you told someone else so they did not ask you something else. It is new to me. It is horrible. Again, I am so fucking sorry. I really am. Those of you who can read this and those of you who cannot. I can feel your breath on the back of my neck saying hello and it so sounds like alone. I now know this knew thing about you old friends that I could not know back when it was actually new to you and I was less than fucking helpful. No pity. What I hope to achieve is to be better prepared the next go around. Whether it be mine or yours or that guys. No not that one, look to your left; you see him over there hiding in plain sight like a million other possibilities? That guy. All the other ones too but right now I am directly talking about that guy.

wasn’t I?

I look now in the face.

none can make me go away.


Am Kevin.


I breathe fire and  I dream demons.

I mean no disrespect but I remember how to tie my shoes.





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