Thanks to social networks and other artifices I have recurring memories of people I once knew, they are things I remember thanks to my cell phone which is nothing more than an irritating toy that distracts me from wishing I was dead or failing that, from wishing I was alive.
Even knowing everything I already mentioned, I gave myself the task of incurring in blatant idiocy (sometimes I am devastatingly self conscious, what an atrocity, I wish I cared less about everything). Talking to someone whose interest in you disappeared is like crying in public, you don't know whether to ask for a hug or abandon everything to start all over again in a place like Djibouti or whatever.
I am certain that this was mentioned in countless works but it is strange how memories become distorted over time, to the point that nothing was as you remember it, the smells, the colors, the objects, the clothes serve as physical constants of the moment, but the facts. The facts are already blurred.
So there I was, again, talking to someone who is after all just a human being whom I idealized as a fool. After a while I decided to end the conversation because I felt stupid and “effete”.
Then I remembered that we are just people and there is nothing we can do about it.
Photography by Alison Scarpulla
