When memories become painful or negative, I do lock them away in a little box in the back of my mind. And they are rarely seen again. They become an old toy I used to love but can't bring myself to throw away, so up it goes in the attic. My memories go into my brain attic. And there are some there. Many to do with people or the way I felt at a certain point in my existence, but sometimes they do worm their way back down, I call that a relapse. All the feelings you hid away and never dealt with come back and bite you in the ass. You're left to spend a day crying your eyes out, desperate to rectify the situation or wonder what has become of your life. Then like a wave, they disappear again, your barriers form back up and you become who you always were. Sometimes I do wish I was forgetful, that way my relapses wouldn't happen. I could stay in my own cloud and live how I choose, ignorance is more than just bliss in this world.. it's freedom too.
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