whether or not the way you perceive your past is true, does not matter. for the memories are merely reflections on how you interpreted the information for yourself. the truth is as much of who you are as a falsified nostalgia.
I shriek in my car after getting in on a cold night... somehow I think it will bring me warmth, and at the same time, I can keep up the illusion that nobody can hear me. Sometimes, I walk down the street and I feel so incredibly alive that the wind feels like my energy, and I feel as though if I tried hard enough, I could pick myself up off the ground. When I sing on elevators, I believe that the people that get in don't know it was me. And sometimes, I will fall asleep ...and the dreamworld feels more like reality than the life I find myself in.
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