Wednesday 5/10/2006 10:30:00 PM

It's in there. Every little detail. The ones I can remember and all those I can't. Every second I've ever lived becomes me. Absorbed into the very skin I wear. Sweating it all in until I don't know the difference between what happened and what always was.

Except that now there is none.

It wasn't my choice. But now it is me. The names. The places. Every shadow their feet made as they marched darkens my vision.

Silently it slithers under my consciousness. Some poisonous asp in the river of my thoughts. Sporadically piercing the surface to inflict its wisdom.

Remind me. Not who I am. But what the world has made me.

That's all we are. Wooden dancers on their strings. Everything we can't remember in there still motivating. And everything we can recall only makes it harder to resist what they have come to expect.

Everything in here. Everything I can't remember. And all that I can. It should be mine, but instead I belong to it.


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