man these weeks go by so fast. time is moving that fast, and i’m barely noticing. my memory is so short sometimes, and yet so long at others. it’s something i have no control over. why should some memories be more vivid than others? why should some of my memories be pushed way back to the archives where i never see them again unless someone mentions something that that puts me on a mental track to find it?
i find it odd that this person i am, this person i have become can’t remember what happened last month. if i get put on the spot and asked what happened at some juncture in time, i will draw a blank. if someone asks me why i said what i did, i draw a blank. i go through so much assuming that others will understand, or at least let it slide.
and yet here i am, a consortium of feelings and impulses supposedly learning from past mistakes but with a short memory for a supplement. how the hell does this work? i heard in biology at some point that it’s a sort of defense mechanism, which makes some sense, because if i had perfect recall, i’d probably be hating life as well. imagine being able to relive it all with a simple thought. every agony, every euphoria, everything. right now, bad memories stick out more than good ones, i can only imagine what that would be like with perfect recall.
when i think about it more, i like being scatterbrained. most tasks would be a lot easier if i remembered everything. but making mistakes is what keeps things interesting. there’s so many social boundaries to push that i am for some reason, unwilling to do. but my short memory aids me in that as well. i realized a couple of nights ago while running that letting my mind wander is like letting it go jogging, as i don’t really remember it distinctly, but there must have been some benefits.
i feel like my mind is humoring me most of the time. he has this voice deep inside that chastizes, praises, and pokes fun at the external me. i can be whoever i want on the outside, but my brain knows better. it humors me and allows me to live my ridiculous life, but i always answer to him in the end. i guess i humor him and allow him to express himself from time to time as well. we both do what we want, or don’t. i know the moments of genius come when we work together and don’t even realize it. needless to say, that only happens sporadically.
i think my life only happens sporadically.