A raintree bent towards a window in one side of the bungalow, eavesdropping on the conversations that had taken place inside over years..

Time is eating away my memory. Time, and this illness, this trespasser in my brain..

Accept that there are things in this world we can never explain and life will be understandable. That is the irony of life. It is also the beauty of ….

To have memories, happy or sorrowful, is a blessing, for it shows we have lived our lives without reservation..

Memory is like patches of sunlight in an overcast valley, shifting with the movement of the clouds. Now and then the light will fall on a particular ….

I have become a collapsing star, pulling everything around it, even the light, into an ever-expanding void. Once I lose all ability to communicate wi….

Memories I had locked away have begun to break free, like shards of ice fracturing off an arctic shelf. In sleep, these broken floes drift toward the….

For what is a person without memories? A ghost, trapped between worlds, without an identity, with no future, no past..

Die while I can still remember who I am, who I used to be..

The palest ink will endure beyond the memories of man.

Moments in time when the world is changing bring out the best and the worst in people..