...well, everything is. Take this, for example. There are already a million thoughts here enough to fill a billion memories, books and celebrities. But who knows this? None of this has any bearing at all except right now, but when I walk away to answer the telephone, or wake up, it's all gone to every life I have to make each day. What makes people change? And when it does, what makes it such a betrayal to me, as if I ever knew them at all, as if I had been the only one to ever know them. And suddenly, once something has been let go, they're gone. But then again, there are others...there are others.