It's a funny thing. Sometimes I think, all of a sudden, in something to write here. Something that I find good. Something that, in the next seconds, I shape and reshape with words until it gets as good as I can make it. I often have a notebook with me, so when I can I note it down, to write it here later. However, sometimes I simply cannot write, so I have to remember it. I say to myself that I must remember it, I don't need to remember the right words, just the main idea, I can get to the words eventually. But when I finally sit in front of the computer I can seldom remember. I know there was something, that I was thinking something that I wanted to remember, to write. There's nothing really funny about this, of course; the funny thing I mentioned in the beginning is the following: I can always - and I mean always - remember the place where the thought first came to my mind. Like this evening, the exact bend of the road, when the cab was driving me home. My memory doesn't really suck, as some people might think: it is just rather selective, and apparently it takes pleasure in playing these tricks on me.