This Karma Machine only takes quarters...

Analysis.

It's one of my favourite things. It's something I do a lot. Too much, maybe. They say that goldfish have a memory span of only three seconds.
If that's true, then why do they swim to the top of the tank at feeding time?
If that's true, then I'm envious. If I had a memory span of only three seconds, nothing would ever sit on my mind long enough to be analyzed. If I had a memory span of only three seconds, then no words, no thought would ever hurt me. In the time that it would take for words to be spoken, to travel through my ears and then register thereafter...they would be forgotten.

Here
and then gone again.
Near
but so far off in it.

I'm sensitive, I guess. I used to be insensitive- to other people, to whomever, I didn't care- because I was insensitive. The person you are, the person you were, it couldn't have mattered less. You couldn't have mattered less. And that was that.

Until...

Sensitivity has tied me into knots. I've found the whole thing mystifying. I can't explain it. I feel a tension in my chest that stretches accross that plain of muscle just beneath my skin. Tonight, you're so close that I can feel you. Miles away, yet every time you sigh, the curtains in my window sway, trapped in your breeze. Miles away, yet the steady drum of your heartbeat shakes the pictures from my walls.

Wait...

I've been here before, I've seen this movie before. Same story, same characters, new actors, but this is the same fucking movie. I'm like a goldfish. I keep swimming to the top of the tank with this eerie feeling of deja-vu. I feel like something is pulling me there, but I can't quite remember. Not that I'll do anything about it. Not that it changes anything.

That's my style. Do nothing. Non-reactionary.

Me, I like to just sit and soak in my sadness until I'm sad through and through. Until you're finished being someone else for now. Until you're finished slipping away into oblivion. Then you reel yourself back into my boat, back onto my earth, the earth from which you sprang, where I absorb you and your every feeling into my chest. Here in my boat...we're sugar-free.

Fast forward...

You. You're just a lyric now. So barely there, so tenuous is your place in my mind that you're just barely swimming along the shores in my memory now. But what can I say? What can I explain? What possible analysis is there at this point? We'll save it for our next life, next time, when we're both goldfish.

Man.

I liked me better when I was insensitive.