So, I finally got the Degas painting,
L'Absinthe
it's a woman and a man sitting there
French cafe
woman looking downward
man looking away
I had a soft spot for liquor because I was bored
I thought of when Maria was murdered.
The feeling of weirdness that came over watching someone crumple over, no different than anything else does.
I suppose memories have some kind of metaphysical weight that manifests somewhere.
There is this idea that people have told me about forgiveness.
That it only resides on the guilty.
When I fell through the atmosphere, something said "You did the right thing."
Here came the death I heard of.
I would never need to face the actions of others
The problem is not survivor's guilt, but a survivor's forgiveness.
Being one of many clones, the memories are handed over like a free giveaway.
Like a flyer, I read it disinterested.
Robotnink probably forgot that not all things are perfect representations of what they are meant to be.
I get told a lot that I look like Shadow the Hedgehog.
That is fine, I suppose because in some instance I very much am him.
But I just like the feeling of coming home, and seeing the painting.
For some reason, discomfort brings me comfort, but you know now.