lokidog

the past is tricky. it leaves a sticky, unpleasant smelling residue, on trust.

some events, and actions are as pernanent, as the ink, on a suicide girl's arm. the experience, may have been short in comparison to the rest of life, but the image remains. there's just no letting go, no matter how emotionally evolved we might think we are, this experience lingers. it hangs on, to a name, a day, a season, or maybe a city. it's just there when someone unknowingly pulls a trigger, or pushes a button...

the past is a photo album of good, and bad. it holds pictures, under warm, clear, plastic covers, of things we love, and things we hate.