[ He dreams, sometimes. He remembers brief flashes of emotion, half-grasped memories of a life that seems more like a dream than something real; snippets of voices and images he has no context for. They pass out of his mind, tantalizingly close but still a step too far for him to grasp.
The album is no substitute for his memories, but it's still his. It's all he has.
He's not good at anger, especially with someone he likes loves, maybe still, but that doesn't matter any more, or shouldn't. His aggressiveness collapses into exhaustion, as it always does. In the brief moments that he's ever angry about anything. ]
I've been around you long enough to have a reasonable idea of how you react. [ Even if he doesn't quite remember his living days with clarity, some things never change. Feelings and old patterns stay even after the context behind them is lost or clouded. ]
But you don't want to talk about the past. I understand that much. So I don't ask. About anything.
no subject
[ He dreams, sometimes. He remembers brief flashes of emotion, half-grasped memories of a life that seems more like a dream than something real; snippets of voices and images he has no context for. They pass out of his mind, tantalizingly close but still a step too far for him to grasp.
The album is no substitute for his memories, but it's still his. It's all he has.
He's not good at anger, especially with someone he likes
loves, maybe still, but that doesn't matter any more, or shouldn't.His aggressiveness collapses into exhaustion, as it always does. In the brief moments that he's ever angry about anything. ]I've been around you long enough to have a reasonable idea of how you react. [ Even if he doesn't quite remember his living days with clarity, some things never change. Feelings and old patterns stay even after the context behind them is lost or clouded. ]
But you don't want to talk about the past. I understand that much. So I don't ask. About anything.