Pre-dating my knowledge of the existential and the knowledge of my personality, I hadn’t yet gotten anywhere close to even contemplating the nature of my purpose and what my purpose would entail, no notions of god or the dying and sick and what that means to be human. The animal sleeps alone, I work alone, the marks left in the walls of my mind, the signifiers of the past as a means to gain further concepts of the present. They are taken to sleep and eat alone. Behind structured vessels we contain our knowledge in vitrines and sign posts we gather information from their confinement. Our memories are forces guided back to the present in times of need and comfort or in times of hate and discourse. We need them at times we feel unabridged to the next moment. They have made us who we are, it comes as no surprise I would be so interested in re-locating and presenting the past. The captive beasts captured my imagination and while in captive captivated me. So much we don’t know if we don’t get out if we don’t lend our feet to be pressed to the unfamiliar. So much we would not know if not reminded of where we came and how that has changed the methods of our actions. Looking back can sometimes push the optimism of the growing and expanding inflating present. They can haunt and be the frequented bothers, but so little would be gained if all our memoirs were never orated in one form or another. The captivated beasts captivated me and they’re uncertainty only made me and continue to make me wonder and dream more and more.