meltedmemories2000 - Tumblr blog

[meltedmemories2000]

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate

I could think of a million other things I'd rather be doing while, at the same time, I am happily doing nothing. Honestly, to be lost in free thought is my preferred choosing of spent quality time. To be floating in a bodacious palace of clouds, feeding off of sun rays that charge whatever hopelessness I desire is my love language.

One day I imagined being a painter ignited with the passions held in the 19th century. A blissful early taste of romanticism, so sweet, and full with the appreciation of love. In the next I'm traveling first class around the world with the most prodigious tech companies. Helping cute little old heads in their 40s and 50s set up the latest Apple products and teaching them how social media platforms, like Tiktok, works. I mean come on. All you have to do is post videos, edit the videos, all while not thinking about what you're doing. The oldies are so helplessly adorable.

In my dreams I travel to Brazil, the God of all worlds. To me, Brazil is like what Paris is to New Orleans. The mother of my birth. I imagine that I'm surprising my best friend of a decade, Erickson, even though neither of us speak each others language. He speaks Brazil's mother tongue. I do not. I dreamed it once. Although in my dream I could understand him perfectly fine. When I couldn't, I was able to read his thoughts through his eyes. I could see his peace in the way his soul would relax, and the desire from his heart would beat into mine.

My mind used to wonder to the most exhilarating places on Earth. What screws with my train of thought is this fucked up fucking family paradigm. A hard smack on my ass to reality. What I thought was real really never was anything more than me getting played. At 23 the truth hit me on my head like hammer on nail. Except, the pretty painted picture that was intended to be on display like a debut was crooked; ruined. Marked with hidden imperfections, stained with the blood the ignorant, and the innocent, painted 20 times over. No one saw until the picture was to be displayed, then these crooked lines revealed themselves in the most unappealing way.

I have no idea where to start. I guess if you're like me, not knowing where to begin, we go to the beginning of the page. But, then again chaos never follows tradition, and the beginning can be boring, so lets just skip straight to the middle shall we?

[meltedmemories2000]

Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani.

I woke up from my 22 year slumber and all of my memories returned to me. As they came crashing back into my head, like a rough tide slashing against the rocks under a full moon, I began to lose my sanity.

Would you like to know how I remembered that my Father was a serial rapist, a murderer, and a thief?

My Mother doesn't believe me, she never listened to us, and I don't expect you to believe me either. But the truth must come out before I make my leave. My tortured memories are killing me. Before I die, I am telling you this to save you from a walking monster who roams your streets.

In the end of this traumatic series you all will be more knowledgeable of the man who killed me. And you can add this story with the rest of those whose voices were silenced by their Mothers and Fathers.

Warning: to all the parents who do harm to their children...they will always remember what you thought that they would forget.

To any of my listeners, his face will be revealed in the end.