I got a new pair of headphones from Sennheiser, so hearing the music isn't the problem (I'm beginning to understand I'll never escape the Mandarin filtering into this room from the television, or the constant talking that goes on in my house).
There's things you inherit, residual memories, feelings, responses. They aren't yours, but they weigh you down all the same.
Am I ridiculous for admitting that I've inherited my mother's love of being chased? When I ran away that day, I could see her, a mischievous smirk on her face as she ran through that meadow. When I fell, and you weren't there to catch me, I saw her turn around and realize he wasn't chasing her -- at that moment, we both shared the same expression of disappointment, the same sharp pain in the chest.
I know you, you were beautiful. You were ageless.
Now that you're aging, are you the same?
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