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  • I took this photo many years back when I was first diving deep into photography and forgot about it until recently when I was looking back at some old shots. It reminded me of that day; the third of July. Upon sifting through that album I found pictures of me and my ex and a maelstrom of emotions came back. I remembered all the joy and pain of that relationship from beginning to end all at once. It shook me. That particular night was a perfect summer night, fireworks, kids running around with sparklers, the reflections of them in their eyes and in their smiles. It's a beautiful memory. But this memory has become melancholy. For a reason I can not understand, I can not think of this without thinking of the tragic end of a long relationship I had with the girl with me at the time. I guess we as humans can't select the memories we remember. The connections across hemispheres and between all our memories are too vast. I won't pretend to understand the science behind it but I'm learning from my short set of experiences how complex the past becomes. How diving into the past bring up more than you expected to find, and not only find from just the past. For me, a lot of insecurities in the present. The fact that I have never been able to find anything like what I had. How my loneliness and lack of an ego has become a comfortable fox-hole.
    Safe and secure, but cold and dirty. Afraid to stick my head out and see the beauties that are beyond my little safe haven. Beauties like a woman's love, a lover's touch, and even a simple smile from a delighted kid with some sparklers. There is this line I have always loved from Arcade fire's most recent album the Suburbs. it goes
    "Now you're knocking at my door
    Saying please come out against the night
    But I would rather be alone
    Than pretend I feel alright."
    I liked it because I guess it validated my seclusion. What I have slowly found however is that I never feel better when I keep myself alone. I swear one day I will think myself to death. And not as some metaphor for suicide, I simply think too much. Over analysis. Probably some combination of OCD and ADHD, but none of those acronyms matter. I have no idea if I have either, at times I am convinced, but I've gotten this far so I guess I'm alright. What I'm trying to get to is that I have realized how much I internalize things. I live too far in the past, and I speculate too far into the future. I need to live in the present tense so that I can make memories I want to look back at. Sure I will see all the ugly ones mixed with the good, but that is life. I can't avoid these bad memories from contaminating my mind, but I can try my best to make as many good ones as possible. I guess in a way that's part of the meaning of life. Making the best of what we have. How do we know what we have though unless we take ourselves for a spin?
    That's exactly what I intend to do.
    -Solo Vero
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