again again again

Again, again, again. 

Life moves in cycles, there’s no proof I can provide really, but maybe the similarity shines through most when the sun rises and sets. This day felt like the last.

I can’t remember the first time I felt rain. Once we experience things, we can’t experience the new-ness again. What do we experience instead? We experience the same-ness. This reminds me of that time we broke up. This reminds me of that time I argued with my mom. This reminds me of that remembrance. shit. 

We go over and it sounds meaningless. I was really about to stress myself out right now because I am upset. But I’ve been upset before, just like I’ve been let down before, and it ain’t never broke me. I’m tough now. Tougher, and it really isn’t the same again. 

Each day is new, an opportunity to prove yourself and do things that you’ve set out to do. Don’t waste in the past. Everyone time travel’s. I’ve relived memories and reached back in time to pull out old relationships out from the dust. It’s pointless. Work with what you have… 

To call your whole – family. Call them. To me it’s just like I have to talk to mom right now. I need to hear grandma’s voice. I need to feel love. If anything, here’s a poem to myself. 

Ledimir, you are a good man. 

Good like a can of diced pineapple 

set to expire on May 1st,

on April 30. 

Ledimir, you are a good man.

Good like weekday morning television,

Maury, Jerry, but also Dragontales and


Ledimir, you are a good man. 

Good like ice cream on a summer day,

not the one you wanted, but the alternative

because your choice sold out. 

Ledimir, you are a good man.

Good like when you don’t listen to songs 

because they have negative memory associations

so you discover a new favorite song.

In the end, it’s just this. Life is what you make it. If you call it hell, then you’ll see the fires, and the torment, and the demons, Demonstrations.

If you call it heaven, then suddenly there’s peace, and good people, and a life full of substance.

Obviously, it’s not black and white. It’s what I imagine it is to a blind person. What are borders to them? A flag?

Again, I’ll write. So that’s cool. Be back later.

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