Sacred Haven of Debauchery

Either I have finally achieved complete detachment from the world, or I have simply gone completely mad, but I am now seriously pondering this and cannot recall a single instance in which I passed through a door – either behind someone or in front of them, and I can’t even picture what these doors look like – with the exception of subway doors, which I have encountered for the past decade and a half, and even those I can only vaguely recall now. Hmm. Maybe it has always been this way – you do something, even regularly, but you don’t remember it afterward, no images are retained in your memory.