(no subject)
We will be many people throughout our lives. We will have past lives. Almost literally. There will be enormous chunks of time that will be annihilated, swallowed silently by darkness, but possibly recovered later when we are reminded of them. Maybe all these moments lay dormant and incomplete in our minds and bodies until the lost half is held up to their jagged edges. Dead children return to life like an animated snake's skin. Objects become fetishes holding onto enfolded aspects of ourselves. Unfolding into our minds and out through our experience.
I will be forgotten to myself. I may become an enduring abstraction of myself that survives the destruction of my body, an echo reflected about a canyon forever.
I will be forgotten to myself. I may become an enduring abstraction of myself that survives the destruction of my body, an echo reflected about a canyon forever.