Hey, memory! Can you just back the f*ck up for a minute, and give me some goddamn breathing room? Please? I'm so sick of your shit, you're such an entitled piece of my mind, like you can take up space in my consciousness whenever the f*ck you want to, and you don't give a damn about what I'm in the middle of. How dare you thrust that particular memory on me just when I'm walking into a goddamned meeting with 20 people plus my boss. f*ck off and die already, you piece of shit! Leave me alone! Or better yet, bend to my will and only come when called. Why do you pop up at work all of the time, and then leave me speechless in T? You're such an asshole. No, I don't really care that you think there's some lesson in the memory! Back. The. f*ck. Off.