mnemonic ramblings

A memory is a cancer, or so I believed. It eats at you, slowly while you either want to forget or relive. I don't know how it got that bad sometimes. It's like the narrator in the Fight Club said, 'a scratch on your upper palate that would go away if you could only just stop licking it.' Well, I couldn't. The 'if's' and the 'why's' never quite explained themselves.
Your own people slipping through your fingers right as you realise it's too late to say anything, and moments you want to tell yourself to just stop and think. Only that chances to do that didn't really exist. To revisit is to take a scalpel and cut out a healed wound.
Things we say or do, don't remain in time, suspended or completely inanimate. I believe they're just as dynamic as our life and our chronology. We move with the times and time catches up on us eventually.
I don't ask for forgiveness like Bono asks in 'One' but I do want a salvation from everything I want not to remember. The burden isn't something I'm meant to carry. I'm not really who I seem, I'm not a victim of my persecuted dreams. A fight isn't within. It should be with forces I cannot determine. If I fight with myself, I don't get anywhere. I stay inert externally.
Internally, though I may achieve a metamorphosis, however slight. I understand that to hurt, to pain, and to die are only natural. Whether it's us, others or our memories, we can only act as we are acted upon. So, the question is: what do we then do with our time here? Surely, can't fill it with undulated thoughts of self defeat. What then is the question do I do with my memories. With my thoughts that beg me, compel me to introspect and restructure.
I want to remodel. I will rebel against all that's mine and prove myself wrong. I need to re-invent. I can rise again. I will learn from my memories, from the time that I have had and invest for the time I have now. I am time, time is me. Memories I release you, you control me no more.