Memory has a curious meaning to me, a meaning I have hoped others might share.
It continually astonished me how people hide from their ancestral memories,
shielding themselves behind a thick barrier of mythos. Ohhh, I do not expect
them to seek the terrible immediacy of every living moment which I must
experience. I can understand that they might not want to be submerged in a mush
of petty ancestral details. You have reason to fear that your living moments
might be taken over by others. Yet, the meaning is there within those memories.
We carry all of our ancestry forward like a living wave, all of the hopes and
joys and griefs, the agonies and the exultations of our past. Nothing within
those memories remains completely without meaning or influence, not as long as
there is a humankind somewhere. We have that bright Infinity all around us,
that Golden Path of forever to which we can continually pledge our puny but
inspired allegiance.

-- The Stolen Journals
--[god-emperor]--