The sentimental sentiments of I

[Socks]

It's very frustrating when you have freely arrived at a juncture in your mind, formed of whim and thought. And have no way to express it out or preserve it at once, as a testament to conscience discovery. Alas it is revered and so fast forgotten. Onto the next episode. The smallest portion remains, of course, in figments and strands, headstones jutting out the land, petrified and lost. I knew it alive once, and remember in earnest thought, I can but examine the corpse. It escapes me, to the banks of a foggy memory.  How can I reconstruct what was passed on into history? What was truly singular. I feel the sentiment and the urge to clarify. I must once more ponder and deduce once more, not the phrase nor opinion, but the state of mind and mind state which originally led me there.

So it's a work in progress, prepetually. But lost arguments and thoughts, narratives and emotions, will always live on, in capillaries and songs, to remind and to guide me along.

[snoorkel]

socks you should read Ouspensky's In Search of the Miraculous, I think you'd enjoy and very possibly gain something from it

find the 1949 edition, it's much easier on the eyes than the recent printings (wtf is wrong with publishers that this is the case with almost every book)

[FAMY2]

The smallest portion remains, of course, in figments and strands, headstones jutting out the land, petrified and lost. I knew it alive once, and remember in earnest thought, I can but examine the corpse.

I love this analogy and the mental picture it creates. 

Can I use it? 

[The Hand That Fisted Everyone]

How can I reconstruct what was passed on into history?

you don't.

[??????]

by investing effort in skill to serve as your medium
BUT IT'S REALLY HARD