TELEVISION

Sometimes I find myself watching our memories on my television, and instead of turning the tv off, I just don’t look directly into the screen.

I use to fight the fact that I still enjoyed watching them, or persuading myself to not look, but still listening to the audio on low volume.

Yet, still existing, eclipsing.

An addiction no one tells you about until you are an addict, in the attic, looking at it, in awe.

I haven’t been a user in a while, but I miss the euphoria. The rush, the thrill, the pain, the passion, the excitement, the joy, the laughter.

And how the clouds would look on rainy days.

And how the sun would shine on the most beautiful ones.

These sentiments are for me and the static only.

I do hope you enjoy them as well, I like to talk about art.

You can’t make art watching tv, neither can you enjoy it that way.

But I still rather sit inside and look at the television.

But only because I think that you are art.

So me watching the memories of us would just be me admiring paintings and portraits.

The finest art ever created in the land.

You expand, and blow up reaching full capacity.

Leaving me confused, and distraught

Now when I watch the television I don’t see you there anymore. It’s just me, in the same videos that you use to be in.

Hoping that you would reappear on the screen. I turned the volume up to 8 (it was previously set on 1) in desperation hoping to find any clues on where you went. But I had finally gained the courage to hear what was being said.

I decided it was best to stop looking at the television for a while, I no longer wanted to deal with the programming involved.

I turned the tv off and decided to create the art.

Realizing that I had to shift from being the viewer, to being the viewed.