I AM

Her wants took over mine.  IF I liked something and she did all of the sudden my interest in it was her influence. the wold revolved around her, and I was not suddenly myself gradually granted, but it hit me all of the sudden.  I used to dress in a freakish manner, she dressed conservative, for years I dressed down, my phase was influenced perhaps by her, he keeps the remnants of his change based on signs of connection to a world out there, the change never stems from him...other than an urge to be somewhat mellodramatic.  I see myself in him not as much, the years have weathered these bones to tire and I am not as spontaneous as he was, some would argue this a factor of a weakness in him, he being the former I the person I once was.  Every cell changes ever seven years but you can get a tattoo that will be there for life.  I don't buy it, the theory that you are renewed every seven years, it's all an old wives tale, something people say because it seems to have cadence. I wonder how he would react as a child, when his mother was absent...my mother says I was a most quiet child, did not cry much.  When I wanted something when my mother was shopping, I would pull her by the hand, she was like an unshakable source, childhood was a bore.  I begged for something from consumers distributing, a catalogue order store, direct marketing type thing, with no items on shelves as I recall.  I would ask for a space invaders game, I was yearning for the longest time, you can want something for a few months and years seem to pass.  He was an infant.  I outgrew that longing, now I want few things.  When she saw him, I was moved, her stare saw through to a future me...not the loser that I was.  IF I had money to have nicer clothes, and a nice place, where I could invite her over I would be free.  I was in shackles in my mind, this made me a victim wherever my imagination went.  I met him in mid life, he was run down, disheveled, a remnant of an optimist but an optimist nonetheless.  He was not unlike me.  Like a relay I carried the torch.  By my phase of life women had become unimportant something that could only hurt him, they could not hurt me...I was too wise to the game.  I sometimes do strange things like spend all of my time or money on a woman, only to find she does not care for me. I secretly believe she does not care for me because I give her what she wants.  People are the inheritors of history. People are the innovators of future potential. People are the substance of a critique, impossible without a memory to shape.  I remember my flaws and faults, but with a great amount of distance.  Now as the body slows down, the quickened pace of fear and lament leaves with it.  I know that wisdom is not a chemical arrangement, but a balance in chemistry defines how we adjust to one another. He sees less and less of himself in his agency this means I have arrived.  He recalls the shape of dreams, that failed to manifest and the fever of his dreams, how they kept him from working on his goals. In many ways he was innocent and meant no harm, in many ways he was a victim, unsure of who to blame for his misfortunes and radical disconnection. He was overtaken by a need to sleep and regard himself in the context of a liberty he has to live a better life filled with vigor, his not not a victor, however, He is not the remnant of a man.  I am.