Nobody's memory is perfect or complete. 

We jumble things up. We lose track of time. We're in one place, then another, and it all feels like one long, inescapable moment.

 the carousel never stops turning. 

So what does it mean? What do we take away? Which pieces will haunt us? Hurt us? End us? Inspire us? 

The carousel never stops turning. 

You can't get off