the gummy bears

Friday, January 30

When I look back on my life
It's not that I don't want to see things exactly as they happened
It's just that I prefer to remember them in an artistic way
And truthfully the lie of it all is much more honest because
I invented it.
Clinical psychology tells us arguably that trauma is the
ultimate killer
Memories are not recycled like atoms and particles in quantum
They can be lost forever
It's sort of like my past is an unfinished painting
and as the artist of that painting
I must fill in all the ugly holes
And make it beautiful again
It's not that I've been dishonest.
It's just that I loathe reality.
The truth is
Back then at the clinic
They only wore those funny hats to keep the blood out of their
And that girl on the left
She ordered gummy bears and a knife a couple of hours ago
They only gave her the gummy bears
I'd wished they'd only given me the gummy bears
-Lady Gaga, Marry the Night

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Tuesday, January 27

We sat in the dark under covers and blankets reading tales of wizards and shadows that talked when the clock struck twelve. In the summer our kites would breeze past the bellies of the clouds and we swore we could feel the friction brushing onto our fingertips and making our hair rise with electricity. As we aged the ropes on our kites grew smaller and smaller until the only choice we had was to cut the kites free. They flew higher than they ever had and as I started to cry you held my hand for the first time. That was a new type of friction, a friction I knew I would be chasing the rest of my life. 

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