Every memory serves as a piece of the puzzle becoming intact. The relationships built and shredded etch out the deformities of squares that in hindsight create a complete picture of me. I’m reluctant to have any relationship, friend or lover, descended to the back. I want its relevance like a remedy to chug. I want the past and the future to exist at once so that I may have everything in my hands, happiness and regret. Not one thing left behind or resigned but always in motion because I cringe within idleness. My idleness brings intense contemplation of unexplainable things. Things I search for out loud but no one understands my language. I want everything with the appearance that nothing matters enough. My eyes see life and inevitably cry for something. Good, bad, even neutral. Every season reminds me that the consistence of life lies within the next and the next until I decay. I’m panicked. I feel the only way to live is to horde every instance of gratification, misery and enlightenment. proceed to dwell. And every day that passes another something slips away. A slice inside of me rotates to the next stage of squares ready to be shaped.

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