I'm thinking I may have worn a memory out. Do you think that is even possible? I never dreamed that it could happen, but I think it has. I have looked at, turned over and nuzzled with a memory for so long, it is almost gone. Now it is more like mist than a shower. I do remember when that memory was a flood. The time has come to put that memory to rest, to relegate it to the corridors of time. A time to say goodbye.
I titled this blog Random thoughts and memories because that is what I thought I would record. Seems I have recorded more thoughts than memories. I suppose that is because I'm still having thoughts and memories take time to develop. Why are our memories viewed as old things? Yesterday isn't that old, yet yesterday is just a memory today. I'm thinking it has something to do with how long that memory is kept alive. I believe it is the same as losing someone you loved, as long as their name is spoken, they are not really gone. They are there, just around the corner, waiting for you. If you listen closely, they speak to you. But what happens when you no longer remember, or you choose to forget, where does the memory go? The answer would have to be it dies. Death is a permanent state. At least as far as the human experience goes it is, although many of us choose to believe otherwise, myself included. So then if a memory can never die, where does it go when forgotten? Do they reside with forgotten dreams?
Perhaps there comes a time when you should let the memory die. When that memory no longer brings you happiness, contentment or cause for reflection, perhaps it's time is up. Memory should be a useful tool, not one to cause harm. It is true that memories can hurt, even after having given us joy. Perhaps then memories transform to stories. Stories are memories without the pain. Or more properly, stories are memories without personal pain. We do tend to forget what hurts us. We learn to dismiss that. And I feel at times I have told all the stories, the memories long since gone. A memory worn out.
Today I feel a bit of melancholy, old memories and old friends revisited. The melancholy coming from a realization that I may never visit those places and people again, not even in my mind. Memories are after all just wisps in the wind. Memories have no substance, no reason for being. One can only resuscitate a memory so many times before it is lost. Time gone by can never be recovered. The reality being, it can never be again. Each moment that passes becomes a memory and each one will one day die. They go to join forgotten dreams. I'm thinking that is how it should be.
Now if I could only remember what it is that I have forgotten. If I could just recover a memory and revive that dream. The two are surely inexplicably linked. This thought is a random one, thinking about a memory. A memory worn out. Is that even possible?
I titled this blog Random thoughts and memories because that is what I thought I would record. Seems I have recorded more thoughts than memories. I suppose that is because I'm still having thoughts and memories take time to develop. Why are our memories viewed as old things? Yesterday isn't that old, yet yesterday is just a memory today. I'm thinking it has something to do with how long that memory is kept alive. I believe it is the same as losing someone you loved, as long as their name is spoken, they are not really gone. They are there, just around the corner, waiting for you. If you listen closely, they speak to you. But what happens when you no longer remember, or you choose to forget, where does the memory go? The answer would have to be it dies. Death is a permanent state. At least as far as the human experience goes it is, although many of us choose to believe otherwise, myself included. So then if a memory can never die, where does it go when forgotten? Do they reside with forgotten dreams?
Perhaps there comes a time when you should let the memory die. When that memory no longer brings you happiness, contentment or cause for reflection, perhaps it's time is up. Memory should be a useful tool, not one to cause harm. It is true that memories can hurt, even after having given us joy. Perhaps then memories transform to stories. Stories are memories without the pain. Or more properly, stories are memories without personal pain. We do tend to forget what hurts us. We learn to dismiss that. And I feel at times I have told all the stories, the memories long since gone. A memory worn out.
Today I feel a bit of melancholy, old memories and old friends revisited. The melancholy coming from a realization that I may never visit those places and people again, not even in my mind. Memories are after all just wisps in the wind. Memories have no substance, no reason for being. One can only resuscitate a memory so many times before it is lost. Time gone by can never be recovered. The reality being, it can never be again. Each moment that passes becomes a memory and each one will one day die. They go to join forgotten dreams. I'm thinking that is how it should be.
Now if I could only remember what it is that I have forgotten. If I could just recover a memory and revive that dream. The two are surely inexplicably linked. This thought is a random one, thinking about a memory. A memory worn out. Is that even possible?
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