sometimes its like i can’t quite understand the world around me whilst completely understanding the world around. i feel as if i am completely out of touch yet i am completely in touch. everything that seems as if it is out of reach i can reach out and touch. my thoughts are not facts nor fictions they just are what they are and that is what they will ever be. i have felt the softness of lovers between sheets and the coolness of a summers night. i have smelt the winters chill and the sunshine after rain has wet the streets. i have seen mountains that climb beyond the clouds and buildings with beauty only one jaded such as i can admire. i have tasted delicate lips beneath my teeth and a freedom only the birds can relate. i have heard many things but nothing as perfect as music itself. yet everything i have touched, smelt, seen, tasted, heard, and loved are nothing but a memory. seconds pass, days, months. a series of events unfolding with time itself, en capsuled in a moment. for this moment is my memory and memory is this moment. past and present are the only truths my memory knows. for i hope the future can breed stories of promise, of love, and most importantly, of true freedom.
myself
