A man is sitting on a bench, the sound of waves can be heard.
Before him lies an empty boulevard, it is about 5 at night.
All he sees is empty stands, the ocean, and the rippled reflection of the moon... and, of course the moon itself. as he stands up to stroll the boulevard, he finds a note on the pavement that he faintly recognizes. He tries to grab it but the wind takes it away. "What am i doing here anyway?" he asks himself. He doesnt remember, as a matter of fact, he does not remember anything. This is when he realizes that he has no memory at all. "Who am i?", "What am i?", "Have i ever had memories? Or am i just an empty vessel of a man?" enters his head. He can start a life in which he has no concerns and no worries, or he can try to find his history.
The note blows back again, this time he does pick it up.
it sais:

"A memory can be a good thing, and of course a bad thing, when the bad is in control, the good might be forgotten. When the bad needs to be forgotten, you might have to forget everything. A memory can be worth a lot, but a life is priceless."

"Yours truly, you."

Did he write that?