I woke up this morning feeling... beaten, resigned, on the road to loss. This defeatism probably arose from the semi-waking epiphany in which it came to me that, in my dreams there is no hiding. Even the sun and the promise of a warmer day can't take the sting of that away.
If you read this, even if I don't speak to you often, you must post a memory of me. It can be anything you want, it can be good or bad, just so long as it happened.
Then post this to your journal. See what people remember about you.