To the Film Editor

I imagine you must be deeply absorbed watching the last film you downloaded and saved into your hard drive. I do not think you would be asleep by now. If you are, perhaps your dreams are far more wondrous, strange, and vibrant than all the films you’ve seen that it could redefine the word cinematic. Your dreams could be stored in your beautiful mind for all of eternity, or at least until your neurons degenerate—forget, and die taking them all to the grave. I only hope to have a glimpse of that realm, to see it with your eyes: live boundless until I wake. 

Inevitably, your memory will become selective as your hard drive will lack space. Perhaps you would delete titles to store fished files from abundant torrents, make room for unseen films, write drafts that need to be saved. Scrap unnecessary data. You require higher capacity to transfer raw footage into your folder for editing. 

As you attempt to transcend the limits of dreams, capture and preserve measured flights of fancy, consider the sharpness of memory even with the intent to forget. For this, I know: the heart could house what the mind has lost. It is my case. I dare not ask yours.