Use this in a piece of writing: "The bruises and broken bones don't hurt anymore, but the thoughts do. Cuts and scrapes fade away, nothing more than a whisper, but the scars of our past are forever etched into our memories. A broken record playing over and over again."

The bruises and broken bones don't hurt anymore, but the thoughts do. Cuts and scrapes fade away, nothing more than a whisper, but the scars of our past are forever etched into our memories. A broken record playing over and over again. We are criminal.

We thought it would fade with time, this definition. This is the real punishment: the infinity of reputation. The infinity of memory.

But even if we had known, would we have done any different? Would knowing memory is inescapable make us change our minds about the acts which we were about to commit? Oh course not. The pain of memory is one so acute it can only truly be feared by one who has experienced it. We were naive. We knew nothing of time or space.

We thought we knew. But we were bound to the limits of the physical world. We had not enough experience yet to know that time and space is formed from a whole new material in the memory, one that cannot even be explained here, in this mortal universe.

So we sit here, behind these grayed bars, and think. It is all we can do.

And it is exhausting.

We are criminal. We were criminal before we knew that we were. And we will still be so at the end of time and space. No punishment has succeeded to, does, or will surpass memory. There is a curse on every blessing.