Remember who you are. Trust your instincts and nothing else.
It’s strange to miss someone you don’t remember.
I want to remember how it was. I want to remember how it all was.
I remember when I was like you. Young, dumb, full of… conflicting emotions.
I didn’t kill her. Even if you can’t remember anything, you’d know that. You’d feel it, right? I don’t. I’m not a murderer.
I believe that ghosts only exist when there is something to be remembered, a story worth telling, or a message worth relaying.
