All the memories pulsed and flashed – memories of me, the former – prodigious mistakes, perpetual insatiety, myriad blank stares, including the most serene one in that defining moment, countless places and faces, most nameless, grains of sandy aged film creating the snapshots of a time seemingly so distant, so detached from identity… faceless names, languages all blending together, forming the shards of the shattered glass canvas of memory’s endless panoramic painting, waves crashing, embers crackling and quickly dissolving into the ash of being no more, blown off the smooth black marble rocks by the cool, crisp ocean breeze of my content, those words of care and guidance, whispered softly to me in a lucid dream – the dream that can never die – that one where I finally meet all the gods within the void in me.