I remember clear blue skies, shriveled hands and shrouded eyes.

I remember beckoning arms almost always erudite in nature.

I remember two figures, one dark and one pale.

I remember being neither.

I remember a letter block with a big bold letter “B.”

I remember seeing my name for the first time, in blocks.

I remember Fuzzy-Wuzzy

I remember how he had no hair. He wasn’t very fuzzy, was he?

I remember the big bald bus-bastard who “borrowed” my seat.

I remember having no worldly words to express my contempt.

I remember becoming self-aware, however later.

I remember realization.

I remember growing up.

I remember the courtyard, longingly titled “The Backyard”.

I remember Natalia and her hair, and how I wrote her a poem about how I loved her but didn’t care.

I remember the glare of Helios shining through the broken windows that I deemed dangerous and a threat to my health and wellbeing as broken glass “leads to cracks leads to cracks leads to cracks leads to...”

I remember my first rap song. It was about a Gold Rush era female miner, except I would later discover that this was not the meaning of the words expressed in any way, shape, or form.

I remember the Russian and her piano lessons. This was when music became my vice. “Practice, practice, practice!” she’d yell, “One does not learn through mere observation!”

I remember bloodied fists and the big emboldened bodily bottled feelings that stained them so. I never lost a fight, but there was never a war.

I remember graduation (not the album, but it felt like it) and walking down the line with Tina by my side. I didn’t know Tina.

I remember a grey hoodie, chapped lips and happenstance, a memory captured in a snapshot I’d regret for four years.

I remember sweating. This was the start of my new life. It started with sweating. It was most unfortunate.

I remember the beautiful blonde with whom I wish I had bonded with before my emotions turned into a wicked bonfire. (You will never read this. You’re just a symbolic thought.)

I remember believing the possibilities were endless, that the moment was the beginning of something spectacular and undeniably irresistible – an adventure. Life’s a lot duller than that.

I remember making a best friend with a most wishful way of whisking my feelings in a whirlpool. I let go of it all.

I remember drowning.

I remember I prayed to a god most improbable. I don’t like to admit I pray anymore. Only sinners pray.

I remember more rap.

I remember connectivity and resonance. I had every mechanism I needed necessary for my inevitable drying off.

I remember bathing in the sun rays on a Sunday reflecting off an exterior mirror clearer than water. It looked like an ice sheet (a global warning sign in a juxtaposition most cursed).

I remember the absence of eerie blue skies. There was only harmony and a hint of peaceful gentle chaos.

I remember the butterfly flapping its bulbous wings, kickstarting a hurricane and that big, big hurricane churning the channeled winds of Neptune expunging my preordained holy life of a presence most demonic. I remembered that I AM ALIVE.

I remember walking into the foundation of the basis of my core memories.

I remember your sudden random reckless guidance that ravaged my then righteous mind

I remember loving it.

I remember loving you.

I remember the dreams and the desires I held dear to my blood drenched dreary cold hear that you lay your soft head upon only to hide your own intoxication.

I remember pride and humility.

I remember envy and carelessness.

I remember gluttony and modesty.

I remember lust and apathy.

I remember anger and ease.

I remember greed and temperance.

I remember the industrious sloth (I was always an efficient time waster).

I remember you telling me one was right, and one was wrong.

I remember telling you to let me be human.

I remember you telling me that I had made mistake after mistake into missteps misdirected by misguided guidance

I remember blaming you.

I remember when you told me to ignore all of this and live my life before we close our eyes and all that is forgotten is forlorn and all that is forlorn is forgotten for sure.

I remember admitting that you were right. Your hands were cold and coiled and your soon skeleton eyes were shrouded sky blue.

I remember looping.