Transmission

Someone reminded me today that I didn't live with my mother for most of my highschool life. I hadn't thought about that for so long, it was startling to recall it. I hardly remember years of my adolescence and it isn't ancient history. Suddenly memories of forgotten houses; I walked down the hallway of a house almost blanked out of my mind, thought about washing my face in a white bathroom I didn't realise I'd been in. I can't associate that person with the one I am now. Too many houses. I don't like feeling that pieces of my life don't belong to me. It makes everything that is real now seem trivial, because in five years time my brain will have white-washed it all.