The words “remember” and “remembered” are stuck to each other like two leaves stuck together in the vase: they have become one thing and it is impossible for me to tell them apart; if I separate them, they float in the air like two leaves that have fallen from the vase. There are so many words that have become detached from things, I can only see them now as if through the glass of a vase filled with water and flowers: “water” is there, but not this glass of water; “flowers” is there, but not these flowers.