Daily memory holds and forsaken. The great burden of the universe, this polarity adds highly explosive energy. Miss, often born of call at a Sunday still exists latent in every act, every photo, every postcard hidden in each aroma that inevitably, and by becoming adverse, has had to resign. So it would be inappropriate to appeal to the best of it lived to be strengthened in a warm projection, rather than take shelter in the past as models of a good time in our memories but truly lacking in many truths that today, by implication, are the scaffolding of our realities?
Day by day, sip by sip, I drank the nectar of my destiny. The former is called point of connection, not only watches today by bringing the oscillations of this massive size, but above the smallness of these fingers on the keyboard and screen, hand on face stubble checking flood , the smile of my son while encapsulating, in the eyes of my wife's honey, giving warmth and tenderness in the dalliance of the day, the dark wind that I scraped off the neck denoting that it is winter, and cold irreverently seeps through the cracks of the door.
Yesterday, today, now, tomorrow, ever, are indispensable elements of the divine state we call memory, multifaceted, and unfading immanent in time.
I wonder if it is born of our need to chain ourselves to the train of happiness, always unstoppable and often absent on the platform we want to tackle. Ringing
a remembrance, let's check.
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