Fake

Kickboxing again. More violence.

Seems to fulfil, clearing clogged arteries and thoughts simultaneously;

in the gymnasium of satisfaction.

Suddenly all is blank, dark,

the power is out.

 

Waking slowly, bruises, hangover, dull pain are companions.

Piercing light through clinical blinds,

illuminate a mind with little else present.

Slowly, my awakening begins,

recollections of events and self produce

Nothing.

 

Motionless, but able to move.

A mind searches desperately for the library of knowledge which is me.

Age … precisely unknown,

Location … somewhere in hospital,

Name … nameless,

Family … MIA

Memory erased.

Disk failure. Where is the rescue disk?

 

OK, this joke should end now.

The nightmare of “nothing” begins,

But I am awake.

Aware.

Alert.

Empty.

 

Terrified but without specific worries,

A past unknown haunts,

not because of its presence, but rather absence.

Deep space traveled through …

Without signs,

experiences,

knowledge.

 

If no past, then what future?

Unknown without the momentum engine,

a rudder,

signposts,

guides,

companions.

A sail without wind.

 

All that remains is Now.

Each second to be remembered.

New.

To fill gigabytes of fresh storage.

A solid state drive with no memory loss.

No pollution,

or opinions,

political parties,

affiliations or clubs.

Because there are none in me,

just the Now.

The presence of each moment.

A hospital room with its noises and smells.

 

So now I lie here, still human but more so.

Identity stripped completely,

Left for life,

to start anew

in this moment.

The present. Me and my soul alone.

Unseparated and aware.

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