Sometimes there are all the memories. Everything. You search for all the lost memories – even the ones that should be lost forever.
The scars are deep. So deep. You think it can be stitched up but. Everything.
I remembered a conversation from 1995. On the Hwy 69 curve just before it merges with I10. It might have been late 1994 but I find that less likely.
Another conversation in the library. 1998. It was a Saturday night. Can I have that day back? I don’t even know who that person is but I think I want to be him. He was an idiot which isn’t much different than the guy in the mirror now.
Bitterness on a long taxi ride. The mysteries are magnificent.
No this need not make sense to you. Several days from now it will not even make sense to me so fear not.