perception is the mask that hinders truth. – Bobbi Lurie

My memories are clumped together into a bundle of constantly interacting fibers growing increasingly nebulous as they reach out to an outside view exchanging fluids with the atmospheric pressures the slightest breeze gets caught in my throat if you were me interacting exchanging rearranging you would know … don’t ask me to talk about the past my memories disgust me they are filled with futile feelings they are accompanied by my exhaustion living in a culture triggered by nothing in particular but self-importance and so I will not bring up this past in case it lasts too long and thrusts you into a dark place even though I long for your company, dear reader, I do not want to put you in my place – i seek to erase parts of me to free you from my past which lasts too long when I put it into words (just in case you wonder why I’m quiet.)