Never Remember

I want to forget.  I want to know none of it.  I don't want to know or understand or feel or breathe it anymore.  I want it all to disappear.  It's not pleasant, it's not useful, it's nothing that I want.  I want to drown it out and forget that it exists.  To a certain extent, I want to erase it all.  But erasing things like that never works, memory isn't that simple, and some things are just hard to forget.

So I try as best as I can to make it disappear.  Sometimes it's through pleasure, other times through pain.  And perhaps what works best is that insufferable mixture of both, that repulsive contortion that becomes the object of desire.  It is intoxicating and convoluted and twisted and tempting.  More than anything else, it is nothing short of absolutely tempting.

It's easy to forget when you walk that line.  Everything fades into oblivion and nothing matters anymore.  Good or bad, wrong or right, they all become one and the same at the fine intersection of pleasure and pain.  Then it somehow gets better.  Not because any of it really is better or makes any more sense or disappears, but rather because something ceases to be so painful after a bit.