Memoirs, or the lack of them
It occurred to me in an instant that I should write about it. At that instant, every thing about that faint idea was clear to me. I could see how it could make a difference.
Then time passed by. One, two, three … millions of seconds passing over it, reducing the idea that was already a voiceless speck of dust into something much more insignificant.
The idea is lost. My mind is blank. I know that the same thought will perhaps never cross me again. But my fingers seem to be typing this out to the utter amazement of my blanked out mind.
I’m sure you know what I’m talking about… perhaps, not.