so often the reality is so fragile as though the frabic of existence is just a fine veil shrouding the absurdity of nonexistence. the only thing keeping the veil from slipping away is our memories. the tiny remnants of fractured hopes and dreams, pain and bliss, torture and triumphs, all but twinkling dimly in the irreversible passage of time.
this memoir of mine is for the sole reason of documenting the grains of memories scattered through time.
treasure it. preserve it. for we are but a bundle of bygone sensations.
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