I remember memory as if it were a memory. I remember standing outside myself, outside the world. I remember my brain continually the obliterating the words to describe existence. I remember thinking that thinking is a chameleon, changing with the conditions that go on around thought. I remember life without hand cream I remember being too full to remember… I remember recounting, I remember, remembering without images, I remember rehearsing memory through voice. I remember speaking a poetic language. A language that is removed from speech, one that does not allow for communication but for interpretation and reinterpretation. I remember the colour of the air and the sun burning through my clothes. I remember the brain sunburn. I remember looking for a place where I could extend my thoughts, but they hung in the air around me. I remember words leaving my mouth without me. I remember someone with a fairground style enlightenment I remember them saying What does a mirror look like when it is not working? I remember when presence started to lead to absence. I remember overdose cities, where people really thought input always led to output. I remember the cities stinking air, as warm and smelly as the air from a tire. I remember not being allowed to take a joke to the point that it might have gotten funny. I remember forgetting how to joke. I remember the blankness. I remember suspended meaning. I remember un-framing memory and every image I ever had collapsing into the dark. I remember loosing the image of the recently departed. I remember ringing the wrong doorbell and being cornered by the unknown. I remember a permanent compression of energy. I remember a dream that to get married you needed five rings. I remember someone asking me ‘can you do something you can’t say?’
