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Ignorance Is Bliss

The mind is a very powerful thing. It decides what we remember - whether memories are good or bad - it has complete control on what it chooses to keep and what it chooses to discard. The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, or a Hell of Heaven.

Three sickening things have imprinted themselves into my brain. His voice - he spoke almost from his repulsive throat, hinting a weak, German accent. It was deep and brooding, like a backdrop for a funeral. His scent - the musty, stale smell of what seemed to be a mixture of sweat, cheap and nasty cologne, and dust. Almost like something you would smell if you explored your grandfather's coat cupboard. Almost... but not quite. The last thing that constantly stings my memory is his hair. A disgusting, ratty brown colour with a half-assed mullet attempt.

Normally I would pride myself on having such a good memory. I normally have a terrible memory and am lucky if I remember what I have for breakfast in the mornings. But these were three clear memories. Three distinct memories which I'm certain I will never forget. Three clear, distinct and revolting memories that play over and over in my head, night after night. Three clear, distinct and revolting memories that would make the start of my life as hell.
tianacherie tianacherie 18-21 Feb 10, 2013

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