This tends to be how I remember my more drawn-out forays into really intense sessions. Everything comes in flashes. Moving snapshots. Fade in. Fade out. Fade in. Fade out. Often it’s out of order. Often it’s incoherent. When I try to go over it and move things around, I can’t always quite pinpoint the order.
But what remains is the effect. And while the memory comes fractured, the feelings are fluid. And that’s really all that counts, isn’t it?