have to fight for what you believe in
and if you believe in yourself
what logically follows?

much drama, but perhaps meaningful?

when I started reading Invisible Man.
It’s not that the story or the words were particularly melancholy (though the plight of the african-american and other fringe populations is quite regrettable), it’s just that I know.
I know.
I know I’ll forget. I know I’ll forget these words and eventually even these ideas.
I know I’ll forget like I’ll forget everything I’ve read, everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve done, everything I’ve thought.
I know I’ll forget, both the accoutrement and the essence.
My hard drive will wind away, eroding to the pulse of magnetic daggers.
I cried.

I won’t remember any of you.
I won’t remember that I cried for all of you.

I won’t remember failing to remember.

Forget me not, but all things pass.
Nothing shall stay, gold or rot.