The memory's wiles are cruel. In its silence, we forget. And in its perversion, it binds our hearts firmly.

I had a memory just now. It smells vaguely like dust and stale cigarettes and leaks out of my mind softly, spiritually-- like Ludwig Van. I think I'll qwell the riot in my mind with cane sugar:

Now, let us begin-- again.

The smells and vivid thoughs that haunt along with them are relentless. They stick in the air tart and bitter sweet like cheap perfume. It chokes me deep at this very moment and drives me to the brink of madness, and I can recall the source.

The dust, curse the dust!
The memories slit my throat,
damn this dust! I'm all but
mad with the question:

"Why am I reminded of absolutely NOTHING!!!"

Let us begin again.

Yes
No
Do nothing