memories

They were syrupy memories that kind of oozed down his brain slowly and seeped down deeply causing him to occasionally stop whatever it was he was doing and pay attention to each detail that made itself apparent in all dimensions of sight, sound, feeling and significance. Those dimensions coalesced together and aged so finely that they eventually began to glow causing a paralysis within him as he savored these old memories of friendships long deceased.  Maybe those memories wouldn’t be so disruptive if they didn’t stand in such contrast to the watered down future that became the daily routine of his life. He wasn’t even sure if it really was his life that was so watered down or if it was just the future in general and whether those old friends were living watered down lives as well.  He wondered where they were and whether their memories where nearly as thick and syrupy but while he might wonder he really didn’t want to know so he never attempted to contact them. Maybe they weren’t living as some diluted version of their younger selves and knowing that would place the blame squarely on himself for the choices he made that ultimately didn’t follow the trajectory he had begun so long ago. In the back of his mind he might actually know that the blame was his but that was too painful a truth to bring into his conscience; although, he also wondered where he went wrong. What bad advice didn’t he think through and adopted as his own because of a blind faith assumption that people knew what they were talking about? He could think of a few but it all felt too late to do anything about. He could throw out those assumptions now and in part he already did, which is why he knew he went wrong somewhere but there were too many consequences piled on top of consequences that he had to sort through before he could ever be free and from the bottom he was looking up from, it all seemed too far away to try to do anything about so he went on living his watered down life, watered down every day just a little more.