whole lotta roses

things come and things go. but everything that passes over you leaves its tracks. some are stronger than the rest. memories ... there are so many meories crowded in your head. some seem so real you can almost forget they are not here and now. some so faded and dry that they are like watching a movie or reading a book stored somewhere inside. there are things you recall, you know they happened, but it feels so incredible. which me was this thats so much more a stranger than anyone else i have ever heard of?

someone had once exclaimed, how can you hate yourself. how can anyone? how can you not love someone you have carried inside you for so long? treasured, protected, nurtured, guided ... (thats the way of the orphans ... but do the others do that too?) ... created, how can you throw any part of that away, how can you
tear out these cancers, which though dangerously malignant, are still parts of you?

Can you? Is there surgery that does that? Keep the roses. throw away the thorns. Can you discipline, control, carrot&stick yourself.into becoming someone else? into becoming a good person?

what will happen to the bits that fall away under the knife? will the float away from the soul and drift in ether forver, islands of faults and mistakes? torn thorns. poor little thorns.

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