Moments of Focus

I don't really remember my dreams. I don't know why. Sometimes I wish I did. But I just don't. Sometimes something reminds me of a split second of a dream I had but I never remember anything else about it. I sometimes want to know what I dream about but I've realized that it doesn't matter. At all. And actually... I'm grateful that I don't have/remember dreams from the night. I would never want anything to take any focus off of reality. The reality of how great life really is. Nothing I could ever imagine could top it, I'm sure.
I try to remind myself at times that at one point of our existence, all things will be brought to our remembrance... but the time until that point may need those memories just as much. I don't do a good enough job at keeping journals, or any other kind of personal history. I keep telling myself that I should just write more of what's going on in my pocket sketchbook friend... but I forget too often. So I'm recommitting myself.  Recommitting myself to keep record of why reality is so great. And why I would never want anything else than what has come, what does come, and everything that may come.
Come what may and love it... and record it.