The Past Was Yours, but the Future's Mine

I had a conversation with my friend Amy over MSN yesterday.
(Amy--A, Debby--D)

A: When I look back on the things taking place during the four years in university, they seem as illusory as dreams.
D: You are just not constantly reminded of them now that you are not on campus. Fortunately, you have memories, which will be refreshed as soon as you return to school or meet old friends.
A: Why do people have memories? When things pass, they become nothingness, as if never existed.
D: But they existed.
A: There's no need to argue that they existed; after all, they are no more. How come people need memories?
D: I suppose that people will be more apt at doing something if they remember past experiences of doing the same thing. Romanticists also seek comfort in sweet memories (particularly when in nature) in the past to help them deal with the hardships and emotional crises at present.
A: Can't people start anew? Can't they throw memories away?
D: We remember. It's inevitable. Even when you think you are completely through with something, memories still creep up, sometimes in the most unexpected circumstances. Besides, everyone does get nostalgic sometimes, missing past glories.
A: It's silly. Why are people designed this way?
D: By saying "designed," you are assuming that a Creator-like figure made man so. I wouldn't say that. I'd say that the reason that animals retain certain characteristics is for survival. Primates, the creatures biologically closest to human beings, or even mammals in general, have memories because they need to survive. Say, if a dog doesn't remember things, how does it know who its owner is?
A: You are full of crap like primates and mammals. No wonder guys are turned off by you!
D: I suppose so. (:P) I don't care, anyway.
A: But why are memories needed? Aren't there any other ways?
D: Well, they are precious, for human beings, at least. You'd be reluctant to discard memories when being asked to do so, wouldn't you?
A: I wouldn't! I'd be willing to forget about things in the past and look at everything in a brand new light. You see, I'm talking to you now, but I regard you as someone totally new, someone I have never known before.
D: Really? But I do care about things in the past. I want to remember them.

I am quite aware that I cherish memories, even before the conversation. However, my decision of recording the happenings in my life becomes resolute after talking with Amy. Some things are simply too valuable to let go without a fight. Random writings abound in my two blogs and in various other places in the cyberspace; still, I want to post the remembrances that are dear to me here, no matter they are the books I had read, the wonderful music that sent me onto cloud nine or moved me to tears, or the interactions with the people I had met.

Paradoxically, after noting some events down, my anxiety over forgetting them will be put to rest and thereby the course of oblivion becomes smoother and spontaneous. I write to remember, and I write to forget.

Would it be strange to conclude that Vox is a promising platform for teaching L2 writing? I hope so. The interface is pretty user-friendly.

Let me begin by uploading some pictures

OK, it works.
Lemme add a book.