I remember you, stranger

I didn’t realise that I was in chains. For some masochistic reasons it almost felt like I wanted it, as though I had nothing better to do or pursue. Self-neglect, from now on, will be my greatest sin (and then comes cowardice). Truth is that I am exhausted and the cores of my body and conscience are still digesting, although I’d prefer to simply stick my finger down my throat, but that would be cowardice. Last night I smoked like a chimney, my head was fuming, but I had a good laugh while walking in the cold of the night.


I see a lot of flashbacks, but they are not real. Love letters in the sand…I remember you…but fuck me, it’s all irrelevant and yet the past is always just one single step behind me, as though watching me. I no longer blame it for doing so, because all it wants is me coming to terms with it. And if there is anything, ANYONE who has done me wrong, the past will always open up all nasty cards. Once done, I let go and move on. I simply see the past as a warden, nothing more.


I try to fill the void, because, in all honesty, I am sad. Very. I sleep better though and I’ve been remembering certain dreams again, but not fully. Last night I dreamt I was back at university where I was attending a workshop. There were many strangers. Currently everyone seems to be a stranger, strangers attempting to estrange me from myself. I look at everyone and a sense of alienation makes me realise that we’re alone and sometimes filled with too much fear. I am scared, too. I never wanted to be, though, so I decided to put the shoes back on and continue the road trip.


I won’t ever come as long as I am not in love. I should have said the truth from the beginning. But why would you tell truths to strangers.

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