The memory is still fresh, but the desire is gone. I was going to explain what animal represents me, why, and where this view comes from. Screw that. I wrote half of the post at school, came home and wrote the other half. The computer auto-connected to SOVA. It had 5 bars. I finished the work and pressed "publish".
And it vanished. I opened up my soul, and it vanished. Life is a greedy beast, it seems. Well, it was just a post. A shard of me. And perhaps it is better that it is gone. Still, I like to have my thoughts on paper. It clears my head, frees me. I don't have to remember them anymore. The memory weighs me down still. Perhaps I am not meant to part with it yet.
I do not know. I know that when I write, I get carried into the world of words. Computers are cruel. No matter how much you work at something, they do not recognize its value until you tell them. My words will never return. That's why I can't just redo it. The memory is still too fresh.
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