Memories

Lately, there's an idea that comes to my mind again and again: Memories. Now I think more about life, death, and all that surrounds us, maybe I have reached the point when everybody begins asking himself some questions, maybe it's simply that the events I have been passing through have made me think.

"Now, though, I realize that all I can put in the imperfect vessel of writing are imperfect memories and imperfect thoughts." (Haruki Murakami)

I will not break down nor start to cry, because whatever had happened in the past, life goes on. People carry on with their life, and so must I. Not forgetting, simply pretending that nothing ever happened.