zachary pfriem

While I sit here, listening to the awe inspiring sound of Royksopp’s What Else Is There, featuring the singer of The Knife, while indulging my palette with a well balanced Lost Abbey Ale, I ponder the recent decision I have made.

For a portion of my pre-teens and teen years I played a pen and paper role playing game entitled Rift’s, a post apocalyptic fantasy/sci-fi game that helped me deal with my youthful anger and passions. Escaping to an alien filled, disaster of a world where black and white seemed to be the prominent element of decision, helped me to grow and accept things. One of my closest friends, Darryl, had moved away to Texas after 8th grade, and ever since then, playing Rift’s ceased. The books have been sitting on my shelf ever since, occasionally picked up to browse the beautiful illustrations, that irreplaceable tactile memory of flipping to a page that had spent so much time open on that it pulls your place to it every time your flip through.

These books have only sentimental value now, and therefore only really exist in my memories. I have decided to relieve myself of the burden of these items, however, I will keep one book, as I never want to risk the complete loss of the memories I hold that are momentarily released when I hold this book. This has been a decision nearly 10 years in the making, how interesting human behavior can be, especially towards books of white paper containing printed letters of black ink.