Shannon Larratt is Zentastic

You can thank Jerome for this one; I'm posting it about 16 hours ahead of schedule, but I've got another one in the queue behind it so I have to rush things along — check out his website some time tomorrow afternoon or evening for even more if you like what you see below:

Other than that, I'm pounding through getting this new computer all set up. I figure it's about twenty hours of work. Probably not a bad thing as I'm feeling a bit sick right now. One of the things that I think is hard for people to understand (as in empathize with, not “get”) is just what it's like to live without a real memory; but try and imagine what it would be like if your entire world was defined by what had happened in the last 72 hours (if you're lucky; most days I only really know what I did in the morning because I've written “triggers” to my IAM page).

It's weird. I can tell stories about what happened long ago, but they're really just stories. I mean, I know the stories, but I could also tell you the story of what happened in Star Trek II: Wrath of Khan and have about as much emotional attachment to it as my own life. There are a few exceptions, moments that shatter through the veil, but some days it's wonderful, and some days it's really hard to be so living in the moment. I really enjoyed Memento, and it was funny to see, “hey, I do that”, but really it feels more like being a replicant desperately clutching his little stack of photos that aren't even of his own life.

You remember the spider that lived in a bush outside your window: orange body, green legs. Watched her build a web all summer. Then one day there was a big egg in it. The egg hatched...

The egg hatched, and a hundred baby spiders came out.
And they ate her.

Implants! Those aren't your memories. They're somebody else's.

I think if I could change anything about the way I am, maybe I'd like to have my memory back.