Semi-Daily Scribbles

Go away, manufactured memory. I am in no mood to continue putting my faith in you. To my doom you will lead me if I don't bag up your confounding recollections and toss them on the heap with the rest of life's detritus (hair dye and pencil lead and toenail clippings and muskmelon rind.) The evil appeal of lingering over events that half-happened by happenstance is turning my insides out. Go away, manufactured memory. Lies are piled on top of lies until they lose the power to hypnotize. It is time to send history packing in search of a more reliable past.