freezing time

if i could choose one moment. what would it be? a snap shot of colorful moments, the brightest memory of that well traveled road - and it would not be, that mindless hedonistic empty callous chauvinistic glass eyed photograph. the life that everyone wants and that nobody wants. is truly a mystery when it is the nods of approval when gestures are made but the cringe on the inside wipes out a lavish display when earned delight rots from memories replayed. the muscles twitch even if the mind shuts out the colors, with a processor that works backwards, the further you climb wrong, the further you have to climb back right. it's the irrational framework stacked on top of each other, wobbly like jenga - waiting for an exit strategy though the wait has become another ritual, like the pulling of hair, the biting of nails, the nervous cackle realization dawns that it has been shut out. error code 404. the heart no longer beats with silver droppings from birds flying high. they're the residue of this sea floating aimlessly, a wanderer in an endless tide that keeps up with pretense. acid burns and soon the dull ache feels no more. and the good friend waving about, the wave signifies no longer warmth, a departure from firm bonds cut through. a hole larger than the gaping one at the top of the mountain: spewing forth anger. red hot then cold obsidian. just a statue reminding of what the still colors unmoving and an exit move waiting for what? a change in an endless tide, going back and forth, a sickness that this too will become part of the mountain, eroding, erodes to become that thick sediment at the bottom, no longer pent up, no longer lashing towards the heavens. just tepid, dead, forgotten.