The Bliss of Forgetfulness

Knowing Not To

Déjà vu is dangerous.  Haunting echoes of a past that may not be, feelings that arise like ghosts.  Better to lounge in the lap of heedless neglect, immune from strange sensation.

To forget is a chance to escape, to be free of the bonds of life before, life believed, life perceived.  Living in the moment is a flash of ebullience.  And consequences?  Fuhgeddaboutit!

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