So, journalling. Blogging. Publishing thoughts, thinking out loud. Whatever.
There’s a lot of things I don’t want to forget, memories that I’m sure would come back to me if I chased them down hard enough, but I think I’d rather write them down as a I remember… it makes for an amusing enough story. A bit broken, lop-sided, limping along with a pain in its right hip from where it got kicked too hard. Taken individually they might make for interesting (or at least amusing) reading… taken as a whole, I don’t think there’s many (if any) people who can make sense of it. But that’s part of the fun, I think. You can throw out really obscure references, tiny little scraps of whatever that someone who’s reading it might think “hey… I remember once…” and the cycle begins again.
I think maybe it’s sad that in some cases, all that’s left of people is memories. I’m not even referring to people who have passed away, although that’s certainly one case where the comment would fully apply. Old friends, past lovers, passing acquaintances, all the lasting impressions of people you won’t ever see again. I hope they’re all doing just fine. Well, most of them. Hah.
Once upon a time there was a yesterday. The light of the future casts the shadows of tomorrow. Whatever all that means, I appreciate the memories that I can write down and share, because they’re what formed what (and how) I experience today. In some cases I have people to thank for that.