Let them become memories

Another page, another sentence, another story. Another day, can I stop writing just once? Maybe just reread the stories? Then stop adding more, because we don't need to go on, do we? Or maybe, maybe our stories were poorly written, errors upon errors, mistake after mistake. Maybe we should throw them out before we feel a nostalgic urge to keep them? If we stop writing them, they will become mere memories, a view into a life that no longer lives on, a moment of a world that now lies still. How beautiful it would be, to let them become memories, faded and almost forgotten pieces of the past. 

Shall I pause for a moment to catch my breath?

Footnotes:

I found this in a stack of old papers from the fall, I don't know what it is, or what I was feeling when I wrote it but here you go. 

(So sorry, I usually don't post on here more than once a week or every other week but I had one more piece I would love some feedback on if you all don't mind? Thank you so much! Suggestions welcome :)