“It is the way it is and always has been, and that is enough. The tracking number leads to revelation.”
"As the years pass, the veil lifts. I am entitled to more because I am more.”
“Only after I am made a fool do I see it...or even think it's possible. My tenderness is spontaneous. But not the world, no not the world.”
“Like splits in a path, fractured and crawling as a web, the choices map my story.” As time passes, my solid memories are dislodged from themselves. They start to float free in the level of possibilities. Some may call it forget. I may call it selective remembrance. Time shapes things like the gentle trickling of water. Steady and predictable. Constant and pure. Inevitable and powerful. Plate tectonics are real, but no-one can feel the plates shift. Even the ones in earthquakes can't believe what they experienced was real. If I went back in time, would I make the same choices I did the first time around? Would I blame circumstances, or own my mistakes? Would I even make the same...