Idk dude. Life’s weird.
so you wanted some thrills
You live in the back of my throat. Folded up there. A memento.
Your scent. Your memory. Muted and momentary. Heavy. The smell of sleep. Reminiscent. Bittersweet.
Once I laid my head on you. Inhaled to match your rhythm. As if somehow that’d bind us close together indelibly.
You live in my cavities. Empty spaces of my body. Your voice. Your memory. Planted deep. A pit inside me.
This is me. This is the shape that let others recognize me as myself. It is my symbol for myself. This is, this is, and this is as well. Representations. Everything is merely a description, not the real myself. Everything is simply a shape, a form, an identifier to let others recognize me as me.
Then what am I?
Ep. 26 Neon Genesis Evangelion