Rippling Memoirs

                           It isn't time that tells the stories of the lives we live, but the vapor trails of our thought patterns broadcast outward into our external environment that represent us as role models.  We are not seeking any advantage or trying to change anyone's mind about anything, just living out the successes of our choices along the change of events we eventually choose to take.
                          You may be aware during the present encounter what you are up to, or you may mask the affair as an inevitability protruding into your consciousness cast as an external manipulation of the facts at any given time, but the ripples these events play on your memoirs in later acquisitions in your absent minded stares out into the horizons in the distance add nuances to the weaving's of the fabric of your life.
                          Don't you know that you aren't aware of what you have until it's gone, and the beach front properties you never seriously considered purchasing that left you pondering in any point in your life, whether you liked it or not, become, in all their glory, never ending stories.  You can't query where did all that time, experience and zest for life go, because you were there, it was real and if you so choose, you can linger during these linear projections as long as you like, realizing that those moments do not in any real sense occupy time, so when you return after four days in space, your life so still, in the present, is the same old place.
                          With these little glimpses fulfilling your desire to embellish about the past, allow visions that were planted in your brain, remain.  The soliloquy that somehow clouds your brain in these short  interludes,will always clear in the ancient recollections of knowing, when you allow yourself the dances that follow tripping the light fantastic, letting  those ripples gain footholds in your present memoirs.