I can hardly remember half of it these days. I’ve come to realize that during times of distress, the most loving companion one can find is the self. Tragedy tends to self-isolate us like that. No less do I think it to be any strange coincidence; I believe forgetfulness is the body's way of showing us compassion in times of tragedy. Grief starts to fester the mind, effectively destroying any rich amount of clarity we once possessed. Thus memory is a necessary sacrifice to save one's soul.
found this in the trash bin of my laptop. i remember the story behind this vividly (dont feel like explaining; just imagine a random guy gifting you the most deranged art possible) yet the way i decided to internalize it here is stark to me
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