Absurd could be the word
To describe it all
Maybe
But really
Who knows?
It could be beautiful
It could be unique
But then again
Some say it’s meaningless
I say
That I can’t really say
It’s just here
Upon me
This life
This world
I just popped up here one day
No say of when or where
The eyes opened
I took a breath
And I suppose I was taken care of for awhile
Its a funny thing
Not remembering your beginning
Three years old might be my earliest memories
Before then
it is unknown to me
Just stories
Just history
But it is like those three years never were to me
Somewhere along the line
I got intelligent enough to understand
That I was alive
Whatever that means
Decades later
And I still don’t know...
The childhood is blurry
Just bits and pieces remain
The further back I go
The more distorted the memories are...
I suppose that is how history works too.
-C.H.
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