Four Biscuits and One Year
Read this slowly. Let the words arrive before you decide what they mean.
Sunday. Tea at five. Four biscuits. Going through the archive. January: Genova. February: parties. March: the thing I still don’t like reading. Spring: school, music, FilaForum, everything becoming bigger. July: seventeen. Summer: Dad, sea, trains, nights. September: something none of us knew how to write about. October: Yuri appears in one stupid little post. November: denial. December: apparently I have a boyfriend.
Archives are dangerous because they remove your ability to pretend change happened all at once. It doesn’t. It happens in tiny entries while you’re looking somewhere else.
Remember me, Eclipse.
Reflections & Dialogue
0 Thoughts
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.