Memories

I'm not interested in memories. That's why I don't care for taking pictures. I love photographs as an art, but as a comforting tool; no thanks, I have a brain. I live, I learn, I move on. Keep up or get run over. 

I love how everyone under thirty bails as soon as they read statements like these. Further proof - Pussies. "I need my i-this, I need my cellphone. I need my app to track my caloric intake."

You need a fist in the twat, because you sure as hell have no balls. I know wonderful, intelligent women with more balls than you. I'd gladly fuck the shit out of them any day, because their "balls," their "determination" are astounding. 

The only memories I need are from the story I'm editing, and even then I'm creating new memories from old memories and making them relevant and irrelevant at the same time.

Deal with it.