ode to annoying poem written by classmate in std 8th titled with/in;with-out

i used to be a different person
there are traces of that everywhere
in songs, in clothes, in furniture..
there are some who would hold
me ransom to that person
but its all so transient
that even sometimes i can't
feel that person i used to be..

where did you go? i go?
when did we get delivered
get over, get beyond..
when did it get over?
if all those who hold traces
in their eyes also disappear
will i not remember anymore...

how often is this allowed to
happen? nine times, twenty?
how many times has it?
unnoticed, miraculously
huge swaths of something
swept away. is there some
kind of treatise on how we
imagine ourselves as a coherent whole
that has a kernel, a soul that passes unchanged
through life. we remain basically the same.
we feel ourselves basically the same way
and centuries then dissipate this notion,
(and there is post doctoral research on how it can be challenged on the basis of some practices of hacking communities in amsterdam living in squats, or tribes in africa, or those using guerilla tactics in mexico .. )

on a passing breeze of the same weather
in the same place, i suddenly remembered who i was
feel the drop in my stomach for what is lost
very little of what i have now
is felt when its not there
very little spreads it stains and shadows

what is funny is that
i thought i used to not know before..