Are you sure you want to remember?

it’s so hot. 

it’s so humid. the hair sticks to the back of your neck. 

the water gushes. it rushes. it roars in your ears. can you breathe?

the steam blurs your vision, the chorine burns your eyes. it clings to the back of your throat. four hours. seven. it just keeps getting hotter. 

This photo was taken by myself. This is the hallway I live on in my house. 

It’s nice, yes. Flush, yes. But nobody knows what goes on behind those gilded doors. 

It is cold. I stumble out in the middle of the night, the lights flickering, my mouth dry and my feet bare. I have no idea what time it is. There are no windows, no indication that this place is even real. Am I real? 

The night never ends.

I lose my way. Which way I came from and which way I’m going. Why am I here again? What did I come for? I turn around. Around again. I forget. 

This is the hallway I live on. This is my house. 

This is my own personal hell. 

The nostalgia really hits me too. It brings me out of the reality of where I am now, and brings me back to my childhood memories (good and bad), but the memories aren't how they were when they actually happened. When I post these images, It is like looking back at my old memories through the LENS of where I am now. They are abandoned, lost, and decaying.

My memories are decaying

brick by brick

pixel by pixel. piece by piece.

The Remember Room is back