Sunday, August 18, 2024

From my Diary (Captured, a vision slipping away)

08/9/2024 (18:07)

- Writing this down quickly to not let it slip out my mind, the only object left for me to write with is a pencil, sorry.

Blue Moon - Paul Evans
In the strangest but truest way every version of myself exists inside my being and shapes it every day to be as it is. Every old version of me is stacked upon the latest, previous one as a brick of stone held in place by a batter of water, sand, and cement. I wake up and I'm new, reborn, and occasionally repulsed or resentful of the person I was before (yesterday).
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