We are locked up between our past and future? Or do we take free rides to and fro? No, we pay, we pay with words. Am I a cynical explorer? I only ask? But what can give my words any certainty? Not punctuations for sure, to hold them in place and not fall apart? Punctuations do not punctuate enough. Boom! An explosion attacks my words. Oh what a timing! They have lost their memory and form in an irreversible manner. How do we put them together now? They are shaking, trying to regain composure. They feel several things at the same time and cannot decipher. But they cannot die. They are slaves of someone's memory.