Never forgetting is freedom.

Remembering is liberating.

It’s the gentle memories–good or bad that force us to be kind to ourselves.

Telling us not to get too caught up in the hype of today to avoid the pain of yesterday.

In that, the growth of climbing higher still serves as a picture of the perfection others have sewn into us.

Trying to break away from the gifts given in love, joy, and light – is not liberating. It’s erasure.

Erasing an experience or attachment that gave one a foreground is an open embrace of a lie.

How can you? Did it not? Was it not?

Simple thoughts that will always be buried deep when the performative expressions of some newfound sentiment is the right now.

But the -found of it is still within the foundation of it all.

Recollection is key in not seeking to falsely outrun beauty.

Reminiscent, that’s it. That’s the word. Thought suggestive, not real if that is the new dream.

Echoes are hard to escape when they rival weights carried in care.

A nice memory bank. Hard to escape. Or not acknowledge.

Like a hard drive–its stored. Data. Something to be manipulated, rolled up, presented – but remains centered in its raw form.

What a nice souvenir journey. Oops. I meant journal. Either way, either word, too many. Memories.

Photo: FreePik