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T he memories always play back to haunt me.

R ummaging through a stack of vinyl records at Amoeba.

A nxiety finds its favorite record to play, speed up my heart rate... start the mosh pit.

U nderneath that pit, a prisoner sits.

M ay there come a day when freedom wins.

A nd until that day comes let the record play.
Today you were told one truth.
Today you were also told two lies.
The world is flat... gremlins steal your socks... you have cancer.

       None of these are true!

I know that the world is round...
I know my missing socks are underneath the couch...
I know I don't have cancer...

       ...I couldn't?
       ...I shouldn't?

I've never smoked,
How!
I've never done drugs,
Why!
I am a good person,
Right?

I did all the things you are supposed to do, so obviously the gremlins stole my socks since they aren't under my couch.

Life can be cruel, as it is beautiful. That flourishing flower from yesterday that you plucked for it's beauty... weathers today.

Your life is a message, what will yours be?

I lived.
I loved.
I cried.
I lied.
I died.
We all are unique magicians

From a painter to a nurse
To a poet that writes a verse
We create it in our own way
To brighten up somebody's day

We may all not have mind blowing tricks
Though our goodness still sticks
Our efforts never go unnoticed
And we don't make use of hypnosis

We all are created for a specific use
Each with our own personal muse
We all are unique magicians
And we will fulfill our missions
We all have a little magic
My demons can't get out of my head,
They yell so hard I'm nearly dead.
So many voices, which one do I follow?
The loudest one is full of sorrow...
I'm not myself at the moment,
Or is my true self restrained by torment?

— The End —