I have to be careful not to simplify a person.

Like my core memory of someone is not who they are as a whole; it’s a single moment of their life that made an impact or impression on me.

I don’t consciously mean to, but in that instant, my mind wraps that moment around their neck like an invisible scarf. They don’t even know it’s there. But from now on, every time I see them, the first thing I notice is that scarf.

That makes it easier to reduce someone to a single moment. I see their scarf, sometimes it’s basically a red letter A, and reactively define them by that one way or another.

I don’t think it’s fair; and I’m trying to be more aware of it. My single positive or negative experience with someone fifteen years ago does not determine the person they are today.

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Being born and raised in the south should have made me more inbred and less tolerant, but something went wrong in the grand scheme of these damned rebels. I am; brutally honest, a bad driver with a record to prove it, a connoisseur of stand-up comedy, the eldest child, an aware procrastinator, semi-sweet, the result of my mother losing her virginity, easily excitable, a lover of music, a pretty shit liar, late to any event no matter what, myself without apology.

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