Existential dread
2025-01-19 permalink
Suddenly a flash from Ofuna station. Two giant suitcases, wind in my hair from a vanished age.
Drowning in memories of all the times and places that have been. It’s so hard to process and comprehend how they all can be real. I don’t understand how chilly winds in my hair at Ofuna station and mailing boxes to a burning LA can coexist in the same life.
These memories that constantly run through my head, they break me down. It would be easier to just forget, to delete every experience I’ve ever had, than to try to understand how these different dynasties fit together in the same life.
There’s a fog upon LA.