Glory? Ambiance? Old Age?
Through years of neglect, memories gain their stringency, their potency and their capacity to change the trajectory of life.
And why is it that memories always loop you about to places in life that you'd thought you'd never return?
Could it therefore be said that the function of memory is not appreciative, nor is it moralitive, but rather a bookmark? A fold in a page to remind you to return to that certain place, to start anew?
I'm beginning to believe, that after innumerable circular events in my life, that destiny is not the theology of poets and hopeless romantics, but rather a psychlogical function of the brain, roadmapping your life and highlighting all the places to return to. An indefinate mode of survival...
And why is it that memories always loop you about to places in life that you'd thought you'd never return?
Could it therefore be said that the function of memory is not appreciative, nor is it moralitive, but rather a bookmark? A fold in a page to remind you to return to that certain place, to start anew?
I'm beginning to believe, that after innumerable circular events in my life, that destiny is not the theology of poets and hopeless romantics, but rather a psychlogical function of the brain, roadmapping your life and highlighting all the places to return to. An indefinate mode of survival...