Memories

Whatever memories you have of me, they're now yours, and yours only. I have made myself forget them, forever obliterated from my mind. I am no longer interested in your friendship, in your company. Keep your social networks and teeming-crowds revelries, amuse yourself in empty halls, break all the oaths of presence when hardships strike down one who was one of yours.

Vain promises of vain people, and empty words.

You are living in and fostering an illusion which is propped up on your lack of knowledge in an age where absolute connaissance is possible. Be dumb, be scared, and alone with hundreds of friends who will never surround you, never prop you up, never be anywhere near your deathbed.

You foolishly think you have the power in your hands whilst you're holding onto thin air – your breath really – and you don't count the instant between this breath and the next.

Focus on your petty absolute necessities, and leave me alone now. I am tired of chasing after ghosts, of reaching out to your silhouettes in the dark, of looking for hope in you. Yes, I am tired of you, and your posts, your meaningless prattle and your technological whatnots.

I cut myself off of your world, and retreat, and shall come out only when duty calls, and only then, and commend you to a thousand devils until I forget about you altogether, and start living in peace, for the first time in decades.

Yes, I have given up on what people call life, without having so much as a clue about what it means. So what? Not a single one of you have professed any allegience to it, nor any wish to uphold its most basic standards. None has done anything to embellish it. I have done my share, tried my best, and I've seen you mar the work and my strengths are now spent.

Leave me alone, forever.