Consciousness

A reflection of memory.

Got back from my drive at about 3 this morning and have been awake till now. Exhausted but not able to sleep. Welcome to the land of the walking dead.
Memories are no more than images, words and number captured in time. Binaries to produce information that transcends distance, letters to form words that mean so much and count for so little. They all exist in time. Time that can be unwound? Time that is relative; relative to the self. Unwavering standards cannot withstand the onslaught of time and fail as protectors. The journey through memory is one of solitude and burdened with baggage. Between the spheres of Black and White exists the varying shades of grey; the place where we too find our existence.