i don't really like the word "memory."
why?
no reason.

once i read a story called "What Color Was That Girl's Dress?"

two girls, named A and B are recalling an old story together.
they get into this discussion about a picture hanging on the wall of one of the staircase landings in their elementary school.
a picture of a girl picking flowers in front of a deep red sunset.

A says, "oh! how nostalgic. You're talking about the picture of the girl in a pretty yellow dress, right?"
but then B says, "No, the dress she was wearing was red, just like the sunset!"
"No, it was red!"
"No, it was definately yellow!"
"All right, then why don't we go see for ourselves?"
the two of them, filled with excitement, reached the old nostalgic school building.
"What color was that girl's dress?"

and what color was it?

it didn't have a color.
it was just a black and white picture.
the dress that dark silhouette wore was scribbled completely black.
yet in their memories, both bickering girls were sure that the dress in the picture had a color.

see? human memories are too vague.
thinking something has a color when it doesn't, making things more dramatic than they really are, glorifying things.
it gives new, greater meaning than was actually there.

that's why i don't really believe any of this talk about "beautiful memories."

what do i believe in then?

you, absolutely you.
what's right in front of me now.

but fuck you, for now.