it is a tenuous thread to which we cling.

that thread is the moment. that moment is life. we live in the present tense.

and yet, somehow, none of us is able to quite realize it at the time. you look back and say, "oh yeah, hey - look - we did a thing there just then!" that thing was a moment. a point in time at which you were doing that one thing with those one people. that was a good time. hell, even if it was a bad time, you still remember it. and it is something you share. memories have this unnerving propensity to decay over time. and that decay - that shelf life - is what gives those memories their value. valuable moreso for being unique to the individuals involved, and the lack of likelihood of their passing it on to a second party, and that party's then furthering the cause.

memories die over the ages. it seems sad that we only mourn them post-mortem.

that is why when i die there better be a fuckin' party. because i want the only thing people to be able to remember is that it was a hell of a good time. in homage to a life of good times.

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