ABSINRAW

Some days appear as a very concrete déjà vu. It feels like an accumulation of numerous events that shape it. You are engaged in a random activity when suddenly the inkling that you have witnessed this moment crawls across your nape to the back of your head, boring into your brain. You wonder if it is the progression of events that led you to this current random activity, or the activity itself, that makes the present hazily familiar. It is like flipping pages from a book randomly taken off the shelf but being able to faintly recognize the passage. You try to read more, prying if it can jog your memory. Some days, it hovers in your head before you give up. On others, the moment holds you until its experience washes away the familiarity. Either way, the sense fades into a wisp. What varies is its bittersweet linger.