don’t want to try to guess, I remember very little, if anything at all. There is not and cannot possibly be a more dangerous state of affairs in the universe of the personal. Being is memory.
I am, in short, losing my being.
In the past, have I felt memory run from me? Has it come back later, in flashes of brilliance, or were those sunlight shards falling against structures of cognition that had ever been present, unweakened, firm and smooth?
I can’t remember.
This thing must be redesigned soon. Quite frankly, it sucks ass. It is bad, bad, bad, and as uninspiring as sin.