A something.

How do you pick one? A singular moment in which an awareness rises out of you or melts into you? Which moment do you pick? A moment in which you saw that the world was a little more dirty, a little less pleasant, a little bit unfriendly? Or do you pick a time and a place in which you saw that the world was just that much more precious, that much more worth it because of you, and them, and these flaws?

The slickness of memory washes away details of incidental occurrences until your life is one moment happening after another, with brief connections in between. I want to throw lines of safety between my memories so that I am able to walk back and maybe even walk forward; the evolution of me. That which floats over my head, where ever it is that I am going. I want to find it. There is an exploration within the self that brings awareness if you only step back and look at the connections of your memories. I want to reach up. Always. Pull myself up, grasp between my being and softly tumble between the stages of my self. And maybe then I will know who I am.