I hate the hidden projectionist, that sinisterly cowers behind the black curtain, in the film room amongst the round canisters of my life. I hate that everyday he spins the wheel of "yes" or "no". When the slot is "yes" and he randomly picks through the horrors of years, turns on the projector, sits back in his lounge chair and rolls the film....and I get to relive the most heinous, painful of experiences and feelings.
I have no control over my life, my thoughts, my feelings, my day to day experiences. I never know when the crazed projectionist will spin his wheel, or what brand new, sparkling, forbidden memory will haunt me this day or that. I haven't even processed the new memories and pains from this weekend and now This?! WTF
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