infjnights

“one day a coward who will break my heart asks me how i ended up still so soft i tell him i am stubborn i wanted a better world a diving bell made of tender glass a better family i remembered how to be a god i give myself what i want”

“Everything I’ve told you so far, while being the truth of what I can remember, is also a fiction, as past events can only be recollected in the room of the present. I’m different now from the person I was when the event took place, and so it’s possible I am recalling details more pertinent to my current self, which thereby invalidates the memory. Alternatively, I might be remembering events in the context of how I felt then, which does not reflect my current state. And so there’s always tension. Selves that cannot be reconciled–except perhaps through the absence of memory in meditation or prayer.”