I often find myself looking back, at the past, wanting to forget everything,
but then I remember,
that some of my memories, are connected, intertwined with each other,
so that if I allowed them all to be erased, I would have nothing left, nothing at all,
no good childhood memories, no one to remember,
without any memories I am nothing,
empty inside, left with the pain of emptiness,
and it's ironic,
because I would feel more pain, more pain than from the memories themselves,
memories that haunt me, memories that leave me with both rage and sorrow,
a darkened side of my mind, where I go to die,
slowly killing my once kindred soul, a soul with no ill will or malintentions,
the memories are twisted, tinged with the will of my own fate,
with no one else to blame, but myself,
the one who looked back in the first place....
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