“According to a recent study, just as you can’t step in the same river twice, your memories are changed by the act of recalling them, meaning that every memory we have is colored by the times we’ve recollected it before… recalling a memory more often makes that memory less accurate, and that every time you take…
Tag: memories
strawberry whipped cream | poem
a silly nostalgia poem. enjoy! I remember a few years ago when I was rather young we went to the state of Florida and played for awhile in the sun. Then my aunt showed me inside the cold aisles of a store a tub of pink whipped cream I said it looked delicious and then…
checkered vans in florida | poem
see kids walking holding ice-cream in both hands I wanna ask them for one but they got checkered vans they’re quirky, and I’m not about that life. . you sneak up behind, ask the dude for a bite, then he punches you and you’re blind in the right eye oh god… here’s another car ride…
Stairs to a Gaze | Poem
Put down in a pasture Meandering tongues and hands Counting, counted, and counting on more Never once thought of again, never spoken henceforth. – A time and temple of thought and solitude, more of bitterness and less of love Now just a deserted place that no person should enter Wondering, wondered, and wondering again Divine…
I Am From Long, Ebony Nights (Nostalgia Poem)
An old poem I wrote in August of 2016. A relaxing night-time read~ ~~~~ I am from long, ebony nights and bright, sunlit mornings Awakening in time to see the blue light filter through my windows I am from places of enchanted emerald forests and elephant graveyards Exploring until my lungs and legs cannot cope…
Chapter Five – Bittersweet Dreams
Brutus smirked. Brutus, her nineteen-year-old brother, was extremely dense; his thick legs and arms were like tree trunks, and he had a very full face. His eyes were completely black, and his teeth were a light yellow. His thick, low-cut hair was dirty blond. What a fitting name. “Hey, little sister. Where you…
Meetings and Memories (Pt. 2)
Silence hushed them. The only sounds heard were the bird’s awkward chirp; the slow movement of the river; the crash of the Titan Waterfall; the loud smack of Lin’s jaws as she chewed on her Creamer Bread. Sickness swelled in her stomach. “What do you mean, mother?!” Lin cried out, “What path do you speak…
Sammicakes 