Whenever I think of the past, it brings back so many memories.
All our lives we are engaged in preserving our experiences and keeping them fresh by artificially sprinkling the water of memory over them. They have ceased to retain their original smell and fragrance. Do you call it life— this effort at the preservation of a phantom freshness in something that is withered and gone?
Whatever event happened in my life, whether it's past or gonna be real soon..
what i believe at the end became a memory..