When you think about the past, there's just a specific amount of things you can remember. The rest are clouds, rain and sea. Nothing to hear, nothing to say. Only false memories.
All my memories are fake. Tight dresses and pretty shoes. My hair falling to my shoulders.
A name I can barely hear. Who is it calling?
Doesn't matter.
My name is Rob. The one who calls me is no one but myself.
But I'm real. I swear I am.