No one knows everything about me. Everyone knows bits and pieces,
but not a single person knows everything.
Except maybe a few strangers
because I always open up to them.
They can leave whenever they want, taking my secrets with them,
and I will be completely unaffected.
There are so many people in the world living day to day
with my life in their head
and in their heart
and I with theirs.
It's just useless information floating around,
waiting to be applied to something, maybe.
I think my head is filled
more so with memories
than knowledge
about anything,
at all.
Memories connect
everything together.