I have a bad memory. It is unusual for an organism like mine maybe, maybe not. Can replenish itself pretty well for eternal and relentles unrunawayable time grinder, though this replenishing probably also dusts off the grinded part of the memory. I’m not sure, can’t remember. Though it’s certain that memory is quite on the surface like a sperm: Unless it reaches the very deep womb, it dies… You can find it’s remains though, them will not be living memories.
Have I eaten what I had the urge to cry out!?
Is that why my stomach suffers of an unable pain that doesn’t feel but there somehow?
Who am I to decide what’s nice and whether that nice should be ‘of’ the ones’?
OH! Is that a shame! Oh! Am I as free as let to fall in love? Do I deserve to feel it since ‘was’ like forever sign on the left side of the road that you only can regret just if you turn your head behind.
What’s the question?
If there is none…
If this is nonsense…
Please excuse me my mind.
I’ve got the love to feel to.
…In my heart.