| A T A R A X I A |

Remembering is dangerous. I find the past such a worrying, anxious place. ¨The past tense¨ I suppose you call it. Memory is so treacherous. One moment you´re lost in a carnival of delights, with poignant childhood aromas, the flashing neon of puberty all that sentimental candyfloss... The next, it lead´s you somewhere you don´t want to go, somewhere dark and cold, filled with the damp, ambiguous things you´d hope were forgotten. Memories can be vile, repulsive little brutes. Like children, I suppose. But can we live without them? Memories are what our reason is based upon. If we can´t face them, we deny reason itself. Although, why not? We aren´t contractually tied down to rationality. There is not sanity clause. So when you find yourself locked onto an unpleasant train of thought, heading for the places in your past where the screaming is unbearable, remember there´s always madness. Madness is the emergency exit... You cant just step outside, and close the door on all those dreadful things that happened, you can look them away... Forever.

Alan Moore.

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