surrogate

exponential nature of forgetting

i have been informed by the passerby of a supermemo
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SuperMemo
which lead me (inevitably) to the forgetting curve
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forgetting_curve

the exponential nature of forgetting

if one have used the illustrator or photoshop, one is aware of their path curves, by adjusting the points on the curve, you adjust the curve itself if it is built by the bezier rules, it is organic, like us humans.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bézier_curve

if the forgetting curve could somehow transcend into physical representation, the procedure of the current therapy would change.
the therapist could adjust your forgetting curve or the shape of your memory curve physically so it is aesthetically pleasant to your existence.

from the past.

The coming of the 21st century brought about an unsettling disappointment:

the apocalypse wasn't coming....
The obscure never ending cloud of fear that hung over civilization failed to come to a resolution:
the world wasn't at its end.
The Mayan calendar proved itself to be a giant failure just like the y2k bug, robots searching for non-existing bombs in public transportation, the posters with eyes following people around.... waiting for something to happen.
The endless feeling of doom that followed humans day in and day out into their dreams, seeping into their routine didn't overload the psyche with questions, answers and 
desire to act upon this brain activity.
We were asleep.
Cities  grew and fell. Civilizations came about and dissipated 
leaving behind fragments of their existence which were studied by 
future civilizations...devoured by time, wars and silly humans.
The boredom was enveloping each corner yet failed to follow up in the explosion of a contraction.
It was a beginning of a new inevitable cycle.
The product of such masturbatory existence, this stagnation couldn't be anything but decadence.

and the similarities were

"neurotic attraction to intense beauty, violent horror, and death...."



...We loved with a love that was more than love.

the transformation

.....and for the longest time i have been trying to figure out how events transform themselves into visual representation, a tangible object. There is a certain vessel...no ....a sequence of choice.

There is a sequence of choice.

And through this sequence events transform into a variable matter in the brain. In my brain.

it goes in as an event/emotion (same fucking thing) and finds the corresponding associations be it smell, image, tactile experience(s).

These fragmented associations act as protons, floating around, attracting electrons that are much more valuable since electrons are the actions, they are the ones that interpret intention and affect into pure action.

Once this happens there is a choice: is today a frigid weather (in my brain).

A picture of a table painted with brown oils that never dry and carry their perfume over the ages until someone realizes that this painting is a worthless crap....or maybe that frigid (in someones brain) weather is something that forces one to create the piece.

the piece.

the piece that makes one's protons moving thus continuing the cycle ...oh no .. not plagiarism, the cycle of never ending inspiration.

and there it went

I really don't know how else to describe or explain this. But each night, or rather each borderline conscious minute is not void of fear.

Love---Fear---Hate.
ha ha.
yeah we have all watched donnie darko.

I am not talking about that.
what i am referring to is a ravine of despair, the fear that bites you like frost.

I crawls up my toes into my calves
and even though my calves aren't that friendly with my throat .... I am suffocating.

Apathy mixed with unbearable emotion, how is that possible... apathy and tears?

That is absolutely dumb.
And yet I just rolled around on my floor for hours seeking salvation in the uneven brooklyn hardwood.

In the waterfalls of my despair, The endless hair pulling incidents that are only tamed by medication because people, those friend-parent-lover people, they find it "cute", "intriguing", or "playful"....the same people with empty promises, stench.. oh the stench of human recourse and cliche.
Yes You.
Why don't You change something, Why don't you make sure, that someone you have uttered certainly significant phrase to is not lying in the gutter of its own making.

Well, the responsibility is too high.