The Walk Case

the walk down memory lane was harsh. all things were broken and new things, hard to find. when I was journeying into a new realm I found myself at a stand still. everything in front of me was so harshly new. it was hard to decipher whether or not I was on the right track. I searched for a sign; but because everything was so unfamiliar I didn’t know where to even begin. there were things there that I couldn’t even explain. multiple things that shock fear into my naive heart. many people would say I was on the verge of bursting into nothing, but I felt I was handling something great. I was truly shocked with the scarcity of things I knew, put the odd comfort I felt there. it was never a real place, but it felt as if I walked its streets every day. I couldn’t help myself, everything was so uniquely refreshing that I couldn’t even handle my own weight. I would swell as a plump grape and then at night drain through my sleep, everything was a metaphor, and there was an untrue meaningless meaning to life. I was filled with an unknown power that fuelled may hatred for the normal. this so called place was like a burdened miracle. I found myself in it but became lost in the ways that were known to everyone else. I was alone, but I didn’t mind. all things in this knew place were just so free. I couldn’t bare to think of leaving, it was my home, it was my sanctuary. growing up my house could never truly be called home; so it was refreshing to be able to associate this new place with my own means of comfort. all was great, and everything seemed unbroken.

But then it came. The shear pain of forgetting. the knowing of not ever being able to return to how I was. when everything, not so serenely, was simple. it was easy then and so heart wrenching now. but at the mere thought of turning my ways, the place became real. it became personified and reached out with a big long slimy whip and knocked me back to its surface. smashing the crumbles of dust and