The four hundred and eighty micro-texts included in this book act as a new—and undisguised—homage to Georges Perec and Joe Brainard's I Remember. It will be when read that something that transcends this anecdote is revealed. Both Brainard and Perec collected their memories in order to build an archive that would serve both to describe themselves and their own time. The use of its reverse side—the memory disembodied—brings out something more powerful here: the fear of remembering what had already been forgotten. I don't remember it is a book that knows how to take a shortcut and also how to hurt, but, above all, it is a catalog of those mysterious flashes that refused to endure in the memory of its authors.