Dia de los Muertos

Dia De Los Muertos






The past is written in the minds of those who have seen it. The past is skewed with those who have lived it. The past is romanticized, by those near it. Tradition sweeps over it. Is it a life remembered? A life in whole, or a memory of a title and a role? Sigh. Skeletons... the American version... hidden away and keep secret. It is not here. It's alive and walks. It whispers it's life, the good and bad. The whispers bring joy to some and tears to others. Anger and sorrow, laughs and joy. Tradition. I see Tradition. I know my memory is skewed. I have skewed it... never the less, I know what is real and what is not. I know this...

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