Appearance of a past yet remembered. Or believed to be remembered. It’s unclear.
thousands are in here not realizing where might it be a space open close ajar or far who will notice thousands have been here and yet in an attempt to smile again hazily awaken are the thoughts of someone believed to be me but not for he does not remember nor can know who I am today
II There once was ‘that one’, who had my name, and experienced what I now perceive as memories. There once was ‘that one’, with no name, not being aware of me but himself. There once was ‘that one’, with a father, a mother, a sister, a dog, a friend, a goat... with everyone but me. There once was ‘that one’ who got his first perfect grade, his first group hug, his first goal in a football match, his first kiss, his first job, his first deception, loss, fight, outcry… being someone who I’ve left behind. And I had to. Why would I not leave ‘that one’. It’s just not possible to keep him in here. Where would I go. There’s no room for ‘us’. There’s room for me. For now… There once will be ‘that one’, who will also leave me here. Where I’d rather stay, to let him experience, feel, and be. And I might be forgotten. But I’m fine with that. By then, this place I occupy will not be mine anymore, I’ll kindly step back and join ‘that one’, who I will have left behind. [...] The little one in the picture is someone I remember, but he doesn't even recognize me. How weird. To feel oneself blurry. And to feel oneself unknown.
‘That one’ and I are thankful for having you as a reader. Thanks for your support.