I don’t fear change.

I fear losing memories of the things that have changed..

laying on my bed stoned flipping though the four-hundred-and-some odd photos of my life.

I wonder if anyone would see these if I died? They would just see a bunch of artistic shots of my life’s adventures side by side.

It would be aquariums with the jellyfish, coastline forests, graffiti pieces on freights, all the way back to a basketball game with my dad. We had the furthest seats back, it was almost freaky to look down.

Those were good times. Even my times back when I was with my ex. Those were happy times back then.
Even if it’s total shit right now.

I think I’m going to actually post these on here.