update from sparkleup

writing/3/unknown-things/iyov/reverse/background.html

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 <p>There is an order to the events that happen in our lives, but that does not mean that we remember them that way. Perhaps it is that we remember things in the order in which they are most important to us. I remember that break-up conversation in one very clear way: I was on AIM and in the Denver airport. I had not yet gotten home. I remember that being such a low point in life, and yet it neared the top of the list in terms of importance &mdash; at least when it comes to this particular story. I remember visiting Andrew and Kinematics in Denver, but all I remember out of that was Kine doing a burnout in his car, laughing about how &ldquo;the tires have a flat spot on them, better smooth that out. Smoke blossomed behind the car, then, and I clutched at my seat, pretending to laugh, pretending to care.</p>
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 <p>Above all, I remember the past in fragments of identity. I remember my various selves. I remember the me who was gung-ho about music composition, just as I remember the ways in which I fell out of love with writing music. I remember the Matthew who dove into working in tech, just as I remember the Matthew who, so burnt by work, tried to kill himself. I remember the me who loved Andrew and yet I also remember the me couldn&rsquo;t figure out how to actually mesh with him.</p>
+<p>I remember, of course, the me who struggled with being me, the Matthew who did not want to be Matthew. The Matthew who did not want to exist.</p>
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