The presence of time over our memories is like soil drenched by rain water, turning into mud. It keeps on raining as time goes by….
Until our memories are so muddled that we forget they're even there.
Until they have not only turned into mud, but a puddle. And the puddle into a lake.
Before you know it, the lake becomes a sea, and then the ocean.
This ocean is actually a collection of memories. Thoughts that once filled our heads until we felt like our skulls would break. Dreams and hopes for things that never came to be.
Like that delicious muffin at the bakery that you wished you could buy but you don't have enough money….
Or the dreams you had of changing the world.
Those dreams feel like foolishness, but it also felt like out of the question to give up on them.
We chase forever, thinking that we know what we are chasing when we don't.
