. purpose.

Something very strange happens sometimes with me. It happens fairly often, for the entirety of moments at a time, and I cease to be me. It feels like forgetting. Except you never really know when you forget, it is just an unsettled feeling of having lost something. It feels like something calling you back, but you know youre not quite finding your way just yet. So I cease to be me, I forget how I got to be everything i am, or was, and i am emptied like some sort of organic container. Rather, everything that is me is sectioned off, quarantined for a fraction of a moment, in order for the kinks inside me to be filled with something else. It took me a long time to realize that I am filled with someone else. Accurate, unadultered, unwatered down copies of foreign thoughts and wants and needs fill me up, until they reach the back of my eyes, etch a couple of stranded words and memories that don't belong to me to the inside of my pupils, and then recede like a tide that changed its mind halfway through rising. All of a sudden everything that is me breaks free of amnesia, and I am left with a deja vu of something that I didn't live.