It's Already Gone

and suddenly it seems terribly important that you remember this moment, exactly how it is, because you realize that one day it will be gone and you won't be able to bring it back. Then you remember a fictional man whispering "You can't capture this moment, it's already gone." but you think to yourself that it might be helpful just to say something out loud. You say, "It feels like two small vikings are fucking on my brain." and you can practically see the words coming out of your mouth, getting smaller and smaller until they're carried away by currents of air, like flecks of dust. For a second you worry that maybe you chose the wrong words and that you could have said something so much better, but then you remember

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