photographic_memory raze i don't forget these things. i file them away. and when my dreams are only whispered threats from the mouth of a reluctant lover, i harm them by forcing the reels they're printed on through the film projector of my mind. for a screen, any wall or curtain will do. with each trip through the gate before the shutter opens and closes its all-seeing eye, the image degrades. you might not even recognize your own face by the time i'm through with you. 240501 what's it to you? who go blather from