We’re folding now. They keep pushing from the back lately, and the others won’t budge. It’s getting hotter again, but not like in the past.
I liked it before, when we cooled and rested, and slowly were more, going up and leaving the fire behind. They told me that we’ve been here more than once, and we were many more last time, but then we started sinking, heating up, relaxed. From there we flowed and scattered, joining others, who didn’t seem so different from us anymore. I don’t remember any of that.
What I remember is when the pressure started increasing, and we started moving forward, and they told us it was the others, and we were in for a fight. Why? I know we don’t mix with them, we cannot up here, but we could go back down instead, like we did it before, right?
They don’t listen to me though, they say I don’t remember that much. Some that do remember long say down there is very bad, because we can forget who we are, and if we do not remember, we stop being us.
And so they have a plan. We will clash and refuse to budge, going up and up. Because we’ll head away from the fire, we won’t melt as much, and we will reach the top still solid, and we’ll never go back down.
We will keep our memory, we will forever be us. The ones behind will hear that, and we will be great across them all, known among them while they’re forced to go down.
I’ve heard of great others like this, because their battles echo no matter where we are. But I’ve also heard small voices say that up there is cold and dark. That things there happen in ways that are too fast for us. That the strong memory that they want, gets crystallised and never expands. That by not making new memories, we cease to live, we die.
We’re folding again, the pressure is too much. To lose and forget, or to win, and then die.