Recollecting Memories

I was here, at Shakespeare and Co. I suppose it brought back a certain nostalgia; a memory that has been concealed, almost forgotten, in time. Amnesia; don't you feel that the articulated difference between 'I was' and 'I am' can be quite a deliberate action of erasing one's original longing for an identity that was lost? A place that stood for temporality, loses meaning, in the light of deliberate amnesia. A place reinvigorates itself, in a space of infinite fleeting perfections. Cogito, ergo sum. That is as objective as memories can be, the negating distance between the cerebral and the emotional, entangled in an intricate web of sublimated intentions and motivations. All that I thought about myself, of others, count for nothing, in the light of deliberate amnesia. 'Things', in their various metaphorical expressions, can never be the same again. It is true. The space of infinite fleeting perfections dissolves into subjectivity, all too soon, in the light of deliberate amnesia.