A Grabbing First Sentence

Every so often, I have no record of the time, an intimate encounter with memory, the most profound, not emotional, not semantics, not chronological, the experiential. A corner of the most sublime lights purple, and through your actions, and even through the other, I encounter with someone that I'm still, I'll always be, my essence. I can not thank
but I look back some good memories of what I am, something that does not need the context so painful to the rescue as a creature, an atom that takes shape and texture, or cute or ugly, neither good nor bad, just a color, smell, taste ...
realize, I realize that there is a low power without the whole, it's not one or the other but an integration of opposites that attract something.
My memory became more intimate side that day because you may then continue browsing in the depths of a river that do not notice what the other side.