A woman once told me That when we remember something we remember not the actual moment but rather the last time we remembered it
A moment at least in theory is pure it represents a certain truth one that cares not for arguments nor perspective nor point of view if we remembered moments I wouldn't be skeptical but we don't
I've lied before in fact I do it all the time I've lied to old women and girlfriends to my father and kids on my street whose to say I wouldn't lie to me? A moment is concrete but a memory? That can be anything I want it to be
My life is a story as is everyone else's depending on the narrator to find meaning in anything What if everyday I stumble upon the answer but it isn't the one I desire who's to say I haven't forgotten and tried again
What exists? by that I mean exclusively to me If I'm the architect of my own reality how do I also serve as the destruction team? What's the point of building a home if I was always meant to sleep outside? If a magician can actually use magic... Doesn't he become something completely different?
Objectivity is lost on me its well meaning contribution out of reach I have just one tool with which to understand me and unfortunately it's my memory