Back when I was a kid, the stretch of empty wasteland under a cloudless sky was my entire world. The sun was always out, beating down hot on my neck, and minus the occasional break, the cars kept on coming and the people kept on going. I hadn't yet a reason to believe that the highways had an end. I figured that if I kept walking, I'd somehow make it back to where I started. I never considered the possibility that I would run out of places to search for whatever it is I was looking for. If I would have known that nothing is infinite, I might have taken the time to remember the things I thought it wouldn't matter to forget.