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resurfaced in recent days to remember my conscience that I did not remember.

each replacing the previous one, and dismissed again into oblivion, perhaps-who knows-forever. so now I am very aware of the last memories surfaced, and I know it's going to replace one that already do not remember anymore. if the concept is not clear.

who knows me knows that I will not speak of events, but of empty boxes, even tonight. Suffice to say that those memories are things to remind me that I was and that, in some cases, I no longer want to be. more reason for not disclosing to third parties satisfied, even though it is not, or at least would not, be censored.

a co-worker who was older than me, told me today: this is the age.

referring to my age.

do not know whether this age, and whether this was also the age, the question is: what age?

but that question to my colleague I have not done, the answer would be redundant, would create an embarrassment, would have emptied the conversation, because the player was right there, in that unspoken.

I, for my part, still do not remember now-significantly-whether before or after I told another fellow my age, it would be nice to have twenty. rather: I only said: eh, have twenty.

but I know well that's not true. when I think it would be nice to have twenty years, I imagine the monstrous combination of my twenty years with my head I have now. the advantage of twenty years with a head of thirty is even obvious: the legal age applications, opportunities and rights that the solidity and concreteness of a more mature brain would know to turn into reality and effects. maybe.

however, resolve the problem pretending to be younger by birth would take her thirst with ham.

that we would be trying to control an identity by installing another bugs bugs identity. and then, to do things as they should, we should tamper with the document.

changing the subject, without changing it for real, between yesterday and today I became clear idea. thanks to the words of a friend.

goodnight to the musicians.