Draft, 296 days ago
I’ve figured out that my brain’s time is done. In my mind, time has already passed, and the present life is the past. This is why I am so hyper-aware, so nostalgic, looking at every moment remembering where I was only moments before, even if those moments were two years ago. I stare at the empty room and remember hula-hooping and my friend trying to jump on the bed. I remember the way it looked before, and I am in a new place in time, and it will never look the same again. This brings me deep sadness simply because each moment is a looking back. We are only our memories. Our worlds are only in our minds, but we trick ourselves with passports and photographs.