Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire.
― Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories and Other Writings

Do we remember digital experiences the same way we remember past events in our lives? or do they become as fluid as a vivid dream you cant grasp, escaping across a landscape of cotton, as soon your head lifts off the pillow?

Do they hover somewhere in between, a blur trapped between keystrokes and pixels?