Memoirs of Melancholy (an excerpt) August 8, 2007

…I have chosen to put my story in writing for my own benefit, not yours. (You’ll quickly learn I’m quite selfish.) You see, I’ve begun to forget. Moments here, days there, have covertly begun to escape my memory without a trace… as if those particular moments in my life never existed.  I’m afraid one day I won’t remember anything, and then it’ll be as if I never lived.  And if I have fought my way through this tormented life, I want to be able to remember every disgusting or delicious detail. So I find myself, on this bone-chilling January night, trying to remember the details of a life that turned me into this jaded, angry, lonely being. A being completely juxtaposed to the ‘me’ I once was…