I have no sense of time other that being aware it apparently passes, and all my memories are like pictures scattered-and-splattered throughout a large box with no chronological order. To try to avoid the unpleasant ones, I only glance in there carefully and then still do not linger too long even on the more-pleasant ones lest the reality of their never being repeated might grow into sadness. I do not let myself fall into the box, however. Instead, I sit here hoping others might help me a bit even as I also try to help others not linger too long at the box before the day comes when someone else closes the lid.