Do you know what you hold? Do you know what holds you? In other words — you have passed time up to this point and will continue to do so being shaped by the sometimes sharp and sometimes fuzzy strands of daily life. You are going somewhere (though at what capacity, speed, and direction you are doing so is hard to say). Doubtless your experiences have affected you, some more than others. And in those experiences are moments of which their effects you could isolate for further examination, completely ignore, or forget. Maybe you tuck a moment close and fold it into yourself, or encase it, or you have studied it so thoroughly it acquired new planes. Maybe you tucked and folded it, but folded it in a different way — folded it so many times it looks like nothing more than a freckle. Maybe you locked it away. Maybe, it feels like it just disappeared. This moment — this memory: it’s there. You clutched it close, rejected it, or maybe it hid. It is there, because one day you dig for it, or it rings a bell, or it suddenly hits you. You do all of these things to it, and it lingers and does things to you. Does that entail it has mass? Motion? Inertia? What are the features of the formless thing giving you form? What about a memory makes you think you move on from it, when in actuality it carries along and orbits you, recedes then surrounds you in such a way you don’t even think to look at it until one day — there it is? What does it give you? Do you give it to someone else?