Thoughts jump. . .
Even now, I can’t keep them in this place… a place in time…
Back then. . . back then. . .
So it was. . . back then. . .
That’s why they make us infinities, so that we can’t remember this place. . . so that the thought slips into something else. . .
I want to find this place again and again. . . when everything was going right. . .
Probably right. . .