There are many ways to define our fragile existence. Many ways to give it reason. But it is our memories that shape its purpose and give it context. A private assortment, of images, fears, loves, regrets. We alone choose the importance of each. Building our own unique histories one memory at a time. Hoping the ones we choose to remember don't betray or trap us. For it is the cruel irony of life that we are destined to hold the dark with the light, the good with the evil. That is what separates us, makes us human. And in the end, what we must fight to hold on to.