There were no reference points indicated by the sign that read, “Remember Me.” Who? I wondered. My mind digested the quixotic message and came up empty handed. Questions accumulated like overripe fruit, passed due and moldering on the ground. The sign was obviously important – it was an extremely expensive sign to erect at a busy intersection in the heart of the metropolis. But, what did it mean? Who was “Me?” The computer in my head started to back up, going nowhere with too little information. I was caught in a recursive loop. My head began to ring with angry voices and recriminations. It was the beginning of a total break down: the neurons in my brain began to separate and declare their independence. Suddenly there were too many loops, too many personalities clamoring for attention. Whose attention … I didn’t know. I was beginning to forget everything while I broke apart into new forms and new personalities. At that moment, it hit me: It was “Me” I had to remember. It was the first “Me” -the one who read the sign. But, now it was too late. I had forgotten how to remember.
