alternate

this is the actual opening and ending...pick ur favourite...


Glimmers and Shards

What do you remember? Do you remember in pictures, or in words? Do you remember places? Events? People? Objects? Conversations? Feelings? I don’t. My memories are all a blur. They are all swirled together, with little or no decipherable characters, settings, or happenings.
I remember pieces. Millions. Billions. Trillions. Like shards of glass scattered all over, reflecting glimmers of my life. Some of the glass is clear, some tinted like an old bottle, while others are so dirty you could never tell if they had been found, or ever will be. While a few are sharp and miniscule, others are large and blunt; rough edges and odd sides aplenty. Just as people are careful not to cut themselves while shifting through debris, I am careful wading through my memories; careful not to bleed, not to disturb, not to shatter.
Most glimmers are faint. Some are monotonous with little vibrance, contrast, or sensation. Very few would spark the slightest bit of interest in anyone, even I. Very few are intelligible, even to me. Sometimes, nay, usually, these are my favourite kind.
As I look back some of these glimmers catch my eye. This does not happen often. I bend to pick them up, to examine them; they fascinate me. It is almost as though they are from the same time, the same place.



I run my thumb along the bottom edge and slice myself. The pain causes me to cringe, tighten my fists. Bloody, the glass shards fall from my hands. I crush them under my heel as I step away. They become lost, lost in the mounds of glass, the heaps of memories.