Long day. Tired day. That's what it is. Mentally tiring.
It's not a long day because everyday is confined by its length. The last shall be first and the first shall be last syndrome.
I'm feeling it.
My memory is making up its own mind. It's not so much a fading remembrance but a jumpstarted loss of identity. I don't know who I am anymore and I can't remind myself enough.
Let's write a poem. Shall we?...
I had to learn
that whatever I did
to keep me here
Will be back later. Will be tomorrow.