sounds like me. memories, and the price...

...of memories. nobody to take a care of me when i get old. a woman there far away once asked me: what are you going to do when you get old?

i said: i don't know.

the cops were passing, they wore black boots and sunglasses dark as oil at the night and the general feeling of terror often surrounding the cops.

another woman asked me (we were looking at that building in front of us): -x, what will you do when you get old?

me: -i don't know. maybe i go to heaven.

she said: -x, you never go to heaven. you just go to hell.

and we both laughed a lot.