memory (1) : making you

I think what you perceive really does become your reality. When making “you” I needed to look back at myself, but I didn’t want you to be “me”, I had to change you, I had to make you a character, someone befitting a story. The slate I had was always blank, an empty sheet of paper, and the figure I’d folded was only a face, your friend, a mascot, not a protagonist, not someone I could follow. My own story was not much of a story to tell, but I wanted to tell something, and I only had myself, so I looked to “you”, and made you from the reflection I saw, and the face I’d folded, and the patterns I’d spilled all over the floor. I’d then give you a good background, friends whether real or made up, and something special to hold onto. I couldn’t get rid of the self I’d separated, so instead I gave you a journey, a motivation, a conflict that anyone could relate to. It wasn’t real, but it was still a reflection. It wasn’t quite me, but it wasn’t someone else either, it was just “you”. And I love “you”. But as anyone does, I didn’t yet love the face who made you. I didn’t want you to be me, but I wanted you to be real. I split you in half, and pushed all the bad to the side. Now all I see is “you”. Imperfect, but someone I love. Now that I perceive you, I can make you real. I’ve got all the material I need, soaked in ink, always left blank, but no longer. This is how I’d control the wicked thing called “imagination”. “You” can be the one to understand my struggle, having so much as an idea become real just by thinking it.
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thats alot of words
thanks for stopping by, as for now i inevitably chase the next life. until next time, disappearing into obscurity again if i haven’t already. for now, good luck on all your tests and happy birthday, seeya pigeons.
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