what i like is when songs creep up on you from the backs of bars. there are songs that were playing when you and i were together that i never noticed until later. everywhere, secret soundtracks lurk.
yes, i'm still obsessed with figuring out how to remember all that i've forgotten. i'm sure it would change things. i try not to be a sore loser about my mind. But it's strange how, no matter how many pictures or colours or smells, all remembered narratives seem to be compartmentalized and fragmented. Loss is implied. It's pretty much impossible to recall a full day in detail. All the words of a conversation. All the strands of hair that fell into your eyes.
I suppose there is some comfort that outside stimuli - songs, say, or the quality of light - can trigger dormant memories. which makes me think we do keep everything in us somehow. it's just that we can't purposefully access our entirety for some reason. maybe for our own good. i can imagine living in my memories for long stretches without bathing or eating or opening my eyes. i can imagine disappearing into these perfect holoworlds. Perfect because there are no choices in memories. There is only what happened. Completeness. Though, I am not certain that you can always trust your memory. Why it would betray you, I don't know. Memory as far I as I know has no motive. Or does it?
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