Memory is a slippery thing; details are hazy, fickle. The more you strain, the less you see. A memory of a memory endlessly corrupting itself. (..) Because in recalling a point in time and how that moment made you feel, it is framed by a new feeling—the feeling of what that moment means to you now.
So I'm an english major right? And I was reading/listening to Beowulf (basically the oldest and longest Anglo-Saxon epic poem we know) and there was a part that I might have interpreted in a slightly completely different way than it was intended....
I don't know bout y'all but that sounds gay as hell to ME
A City In The Sea - Edgar Allan Poe
A dramatic reading of "A City In The Sea" by Edgar Allan Poe. As always, thanks for listening; more poetry to come! ~JC