All that I am, all that I did

is the collection of gajabillions upon fintillions

of moments and experiences and things who did

much in the way snow balls up down a mountain

these moments and experiences and things

have balled up down my mountain

and collected and transformed and transmogrified

into what is now known as me

Me, that collection of every word my mother shared with me, of every moment my father beared upon me, of all the times I played with my sister, of all the friends who brought me joy, of all the scraped knees I collected, of all the burnt bridges I inflamed, of all the self-immolative emotions I constructed, of all the love that was made to me and made me melt, of all the tears that flew down my cheeks, onto to the concrete, and which reflected the sun back into my eye, and so cyclically did my pain fly, and all the moments I had to break in new shoes, and each and every time I chose to fly, and hoped I land on the other side, and every time I played a game, letting my fate be chosen by lady luck, and every single time I did, or did not, give a fuck, and every time I lied down in bed, and fell asleep to the thought of me waking up dead, and then I woke up and found that a lie, and went through my day like any other's time, and every time I got a good grade, and patted myself on the back for days, and every time I was told I was beautiful, and every time I was told I was a dunce, even every time I forgot to to mention, every time I felt some tension, whether in my head or heart or pants, and every time I chose to dance, every time my dog licked my face, every time my cat hissed in place, each time I wanted to die, each time I realized that, too, was a lie, and all the times I have simply forgotten, all the times I acted so rotten, each time someone whispers my name, within earshot or not, and every time someone grabbed my arms, and said let's go and we went on and on, and everytime I stopped in my tracks, and every time I massaged someone's back, and maybe they massaged mine, each time someone disagreed with me, and each time I asked why, and every time I didn't understand, or all the times I said I did and lied, and maybe even things I cannot choose to write, because they are so a part of me I cannot bring them to life, but know that those too are a part of who I am, and every song I choose to play, all the friends I ever made, all the family I cast away, all the blood I chose not to drip, and the pool I nearly drowned in at eight, and the cruise ship I first boarded at twelve, and the sand the got in my eye at five, and the photos taken of me at nine, the sister that was given to me at four, the university I moved to at seventeen, the apartment I found alone at twenty, the woman I fell in love when I was seventeen, nineteen, and twenty, the time I got punched in the face and ended up with a split lip that had to be stitched and gave me an oral infection with ulcers, the time I became mute because of  screaming to loud the night before, the first time I really drank and blacked out, each time I played pool and sunk a ball in, or didn't, every time I made my bed, every time I didn't, every job application that was a rejection, every girl I spoke to that caused dejection, every time I drank water, every time I felt like I could be hotter, every time I raised the temperature of my home, every time I showered and didn't wash my hair, every noise I chose to listen to, each time I loved my verimisilitude, every time I loved the way she lied, each time I chose to hit "skip," every time I ate a burger with cheese, every slice of pizza I ate with ease, every barbell I ever lifted, every tattoo I was ever given, all the pain I chose to endure, all the love I chose to share, each time my dad called me son, each time my mother texted me after I told her we were done, all the dreams I chose to never have, especially the ones that I wish would last, all the dreams I chose to live, the ones that didn't come true, and the ones that did, the one time I watched a video of gun shots into a room full of kids, and cried because of pain it did, to me, to the victims, and to the shooter himself, the times I chose to believe in humanity's potential, the times I became a cynic and was going mental, the moment I lost my mother to life, and learned the definition of "rife," the first time a friend showed me Johnny Cash, the last time I listened to him when I was sad, and even that time I thought I knew what I was doing, and went all-in on a final bet, and lost my money to a close friend, every time I went down the stairs, trying to go faster and faster every time as a kid, and each time I ran a 5k, every time I slept with a woman older than me, or younger, each time I ever brushed my teeth, all the moments that had me shaking my hips, shaking my hips like that one girl who took me to Ibiza, all the times I thought a thought that I thought was worth thinking, every time I called bullshit, on me, myself, you, and him, and her, on them, and they, and everyone who could have ever heard, and I suppose the times I didn't realize what was to come, but thought I had done all that could be done, and each time I played a new video game, every time I said no to drugs, every time I chose to wear a pair of particular shoes, all the times I walked to walked, and the times I felt the need to cruise, each and every time I sweat, all the times I said, "You wanna bet?," and every book I have left unfinished, the time I realized I had rejected God, and became Godless against all odds, that moment I realized I love to travel, when I realized I love putting my thoughts on paper, or screen, the time I stopped eating so I could become lean, and all the times I ever wanted to scream, but didn't because I was somewhere where that'd be obscene, and silly as it may be that time I almost crashed, and didn't tell anybody because it didn't bash, my skull in, but all the times I read a book which made me felt like I crashed, and bashed my skull in, every time I speak with a lisp, every time I fell on my butt, all the times I was ever in a rut, all the rollercoasters I have ever been on, all the quarters I flipped into fountains, all the coasters I placed my drinks on, all the despair I came to bear, all the hope I came to feel, all the objects in my room: a cup, a desk, a bed, a phone, two speakers, six pens, a lighter, a wallet, sheets, sweaters and jackets to boot, cubes holding even more things like books and vinyls and food too, and my whiteboard and backpacks, everytime I wrote something on some surface, with my thoughts running in place, and every waterfall that fell onto the place where I stood, or where I was standing on the water fell onto my place, every time I craved a grilled cheese, every single time I felt the ocean breeze, every time I had salt on my lips

all of these are the culmination of all other moments and things,

and the snow ball rolls down and down, and grows into this juggernaut I call "myself,"

and it will continue to grow until it no longer does, and along the way it will collect every moment and thing, until there are no more moments and things to collect,

but maybe that's not right, and the snowball always rolls, and rolls and rolls and rolls and rolls, beyond my life into the next one it did, and now my snowball has broken and begun anew, it did,

and now it's starting, with my snow scattered all about the mountain, recollecting all of those moments and things, and it grows and it grows, collecting everything that was ever me, and collecting all those things I did,

but let us remember that all I ever did, wasn't really just me, but all of the other people who I was with, and me is just a collection of all those moments and things, that led up to me, yes, but really was everyone and everything else who ever did, did to me and myself and all that I was, and did,

so I was never really me and myself, but all the moments and things that came together to create me, which is how I came to know myself, I did, and I just began to use shorthand to capture all of that and this and even when my snowball stops rolling, or won't, then we realize

the snowball rolls with me, myself, it did,

but it rolls with every one, thing, moment, experience that ever did

and it rolls and rolls into some other version

of me, myself, it did,

along with other versions of everyone one, thing, moment, experience that ever did

and forms what someone else would call me, myself

who was once me, myself,

and who was once you, yourself

and all of these snowballs and rolling up down the mountains, they did, and they continue, with and without me, myself, you, yourself, or us, ourselves, they did

and they roll, and roll, and roll, and roll, and roll, and roll, and roll, and roll, and roll, and roll, and roll, roll roll, roll, roll, roll, and roll, they did

until they roll into each other, and roll no more

roll no more, they did