“It happened.
Am I remembering it, or am I just remembering myself remembering it?
I almost cherish not knowing why or how.
But I still seek an explanation.
Some things happen, over and over, outside of one’s own control or desires.
The pieces that are missing, are they gone with good reason?
I would like to be honest about all of this.
Because I know what is right and what is wrong.
What would I be, were it not for my confessions...
Doubts...
Dreams...
And my logic.
Repetition...
Empty holes...
Truth...
And lies;
I am memory.

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