You've lived many years up to this point, many months, many weeks, many days, many minutes, many seconds. Yet recalling slips through your fingers.
Here you are, today, and what you have is the here and now and what lies ahead. What is now behind you lags far behind and it eludes you.
You are not sure exactly how you got where you are. Looking at the path behind you is foggy, blurry. Only few things are discernible in the fog, most is close by, things you just past.
Though yet, you are able to discern few things long past. Some more distinct than others. Some more sharp, some losing their edges in the fog.
Some things aren't worth seeing again.
Who you are is uncertain, as blurry as the fog and trail behind. Lost in what you can no longer see.
Even yet the road you tread now would not be the same path without the passage previous.
Scary,isn't it? Not seeing how you got here?
You continue walking. The fog inches ever closer.
And you forget the path close behind. Consumed by the blurry fog, eaten by the static. Hard to discern. Sharp edges nibbled away ,it blurs into the grey.
Maybe you can see it if you try harder. You squint you widen your eyes you rubs them you blink. Some things become easier to see,some don't.
You have to try harder. Maybe just maybe if your write down stuff you saw before maybe it'd be easier to pick out the shapes in the fog.
But the fog catches up. And you cant seem to find where your put your notebooks.
You can't retrace your steps. You're getting lost.
The fog creeps up. Closer. Closer. Ever closer.
You don't know what you're doing. Or who you are. It's lost in the white.
Sometimes some things get sharper. The future is hard to see and you inch closer.
You exists in the white nothingness. Stuff behind you fading quickly into the fog. Nothing seems real. And it's worse.
You're desperate for answers most people don't even have to ask.
The now, right now, is the only clear thing. Even then it doesn't feel real.
Your road is far more foggy than anyone you've known.
2087
vaporwave
ellievsbear