Have you ever watched an incense stick, fading ever so slowly, as it's sweet smoke lazily swirled outward, stemming from the tip? Soon, there is nothing left to it, but a small, burnt piece, slightly resembling what the stick once was. Sort of like a memory. Why must memories fade? Some memories should be stored somewhere deep down in our vast consciousness, and able to be released, as vividly as ever, if the need for it arose. I want to remember it fully, as it once was.... always.