the question, the overwhelming question he asked was this: How can you distract a machine that has perfect recollection? and it struck me

perfect recollection

i forget so much. deeds and days, the small things. gone, a bit at a time.
whole years have vanished

things just go away. i can't recall what came before and what came after, and memories get more and more imprecise. some of them are even false

i sit and hold myself when i think of the future madness, of a head blank and gone. all the words i ever loved. tous les soirs du monde. fear makes my hands clammy and leaves a bitter aftertaste in the back of my mouth

lost and adrift. every moment new because i've destroyed the previous one. forget, forgot, forgotten. another form of imprisonment, of insidious intent and execution

i sift the colander of memory

i look for the word that ascends summer
for something

and there it is. the possibility of there being nothing but blind oblivion. a pitiful creature. death by inches

und ich warte
und ich warte auf etwas

(o lord thou pluckest me out)

álmaimat zizeg

égő