Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Living inside a memory of somebody else's mind. Nostalgia gives me life, retrospect my bones, remembrance my skin. Spheres of the brain are composing me, breathing and blowing me, obliterating the reality that I feel so permanently. We are each others' memories, constituted and fragmented in gray and white matter...that's the only way we live on, come back to the people that remember us, in material form.

I don't want to forget...who you were to me that day, don't want to remember who you are to me now...who will you be a second from now? What will you say to change everything? Will perceptions be perpetuated or destroyed in an act of defiance that deems scope dispensable.

I don't want to live trapped inside a vision, fantasy, utopia...a nightmare, or mundane monotony due to what your memory does to my skin, to my face, to the days that I live inside and outside you. I am shy inside of you, cowardly, unknown, a black face, impersonal, lost, one in the crowd...nothing, everything depending on how you see me that day...some hot hyperbole desecrated and mutilated to metonomy? Am I...what you think I am, what you remember me to be? Or perhaps a postmodern portrayal, fissured, and fragmented...capricious and unpredictable, coming together within that day, that hour, that second...then I shift.

A different person in the morning than night. Who am I to you? What will you allow to be remembered of me, that constructs how you communicate with me? What do you forget everyday when you see me? To think, that the entire wholeness of an individual is never what greets you when you look into its eyes, you will never understand the mist and motion in a person’s sighs, the truth in her lies, the infinite goodbyes that are retained in remembering and forgetting certain parts of peoples' personalities…letting go of a person you “know”…all of the heavy whimpering and wilting found in recollection and retrieval, un-meditated memory neglect…to know that all the pieces you have thrown at me…some of them die. Your personality is never full in my eyes. We are always yet to be discovered, remembered, and forgotten by those "known" to us.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

…to know that all the pieces you have thrown at me…some of them die...

i always feel incredibly sad when i read this line. it's so true and heartbreaking, and perhaps i've been there so i feel the emotion and history behind that line u have beautifully written.

s.

Imogen Mutama said...

aww, thank you. yes unfortunately its true, but as well there are so many things about people that we grasp and hold on to, so it perhaps overwhelms the parts that we let go of unknowingly. =)

Anonymous said...

wow sweet pea.

I read it the first time keeping in mind what this piece might mean to you. I read it the second time thinking about what it means to me. This piece is very true and real.

My favourite paragraph is the first one because:
1) The first line blows me away. I haven't really thought of this..feeling.. as living inside the memory of "somebody else's mind" until now.
How interesting. Technically it is somebody else's experience that one builds nostalgia on.
2) I like "gray and white matter" :) If I didn't know you, I would have totally thought that you have a science background. Personally I can't even think of incorporating science with descriptive language. Thanks for fusing these two.

- Jules :)

Imogen Mutama said...

Thanks Julia =) ( I always really really appreciate your comments..you have such a big heart to regularly check in!)

..and I'm so happy the piece touched you as it did and gave you a new perspective..i love the power of writing to do this. but i really realize that we are only what other people remember of us. of course, to ourselves..we are lots of different things..but to our friends, family, we are only the things that they remember...other experiences build on to those rudimentary remembrances. its very interesting.

oh and thank you!! i love fusing science and poetry..its all so beautiful that there are so many ways to use the world to say what you wish to, everything is found in everything else.

thanks sweet pea for commenting =)