Our mind always comes back. Thoughts always pop back up. They're like balloons being held underwater, only willing themselves and pushing up to the surface.
They are memories of things long forgotten, that we don't care to remember. Of course, that's why they try to remain forgotten.
Yet they linger in the backs of our minds, a thin residue on the inside of a bathtub that no matter how hard we scrub, just won't come off. It's a dirty secret, it's a bad night with 'friends', it's a wish of anywhere but here. We dig our nails in deep, trying to scrape it up into the trash can but all we end up with is grinded down nails ad dirty fingers.
