They look at me full of sorrow, knowing that I’m not able to help myself against forgetting. I want to forget, I want to remember. I want to step on them and pretend they don’t exist. Step on all the memories that beg me to save them. It is unpredictable which memories I keep, just like their blossoming; They wait until the soil is warm enough for them to flower. I knew if I didn’t take pictures nothing would remain in my memory. What's left of me and what I left behind. Forget me not, I’ll try not to forget but I won't promise anything. Forgive me if I ever step on your petals. I won't promise but I know that even if I do forget I will look at your pictures to keep you alive.