I keep having conversations about my life and where it is headed, with my parents, what I'm doing with my life, and why I am doing some of the things I do. we're always sitting at the kitchen table in our old house where we used to live, and it's always the same white kitchen we never had, and there's always kitchen supplies and things around us, but also plenty of things that does not belong in a kitchen, like books that aren't cook books but title's of chapters in my life. Well, my mom and dad died when a plane crashed in 2001, so I don't know why they are still chatting with me about what to do with myself. My subconscious mind playing tricks on me. I never remember the food we're eating, I never remember how I get there, I never remember anything but the conversation and the white bookshelf with my stories on it.
Ecs1989 Ecs1989
26-30, M
Oct 9, 2015