foreword

So what the hell is this? Where the fuck am I?

Who am I?

That’s the biggest question, and one I’m not too sure will unfold within the narrative. Life doesn’t always bounce between plot points with an indie soundtrack and well thought out end. When you look back, what do you see? What do you really have?

Moments are what we have. Brief instances where we can remember that smell, that feeling…Sharp moments that are little more than flashes. We piece these moments together by living within them.

This isn’t the meaning of life, but perhaps it proves life has meaning, if for but a moment.

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