i cannot remember the divisions of my map

Voices echo in the head; softly, calmly, hauntingly. Memories dance in the mind like figures on a roll of film; faded, fading, dying. Yet, everything continues to fall speechless. You enter the dreams, your hands hold on, your embrace lingers in thought, the promise lives on in words, your laugh, your smile, your amiable spirit - all alive within the heart. Far too many times, Ian McEwan says it right: by doing nothing.

Yet, omission is not a crime in the English law. One would not get charged for the sin of omission and going along with the crowd like what happened in Princess Diana's death in the car crash on Malaysia's Independence Day eleven years. I am no criminal, then. Human vanity or folly - I declare so. But, reality gives birth to only ashes; remnants, ruins of a memory. Reality displays mere representation to honour a soul.

And so, I shall continue to write. The very least, I am doing something about my omissions.