There's a reason my story telling ability isn't very good. I don't remember things very well. Many of my memories of childhood have been told to me. Of course, somewhere inside this head of mine I'm sure there are a lot of things stored on the hardrives. I just can't remember the paths. Knowing my luck, one day I'll discover that they all are in one single folder and I'll make the mistake of opening it at work. Woo hoo, they'll find me in a fetal position in front of a copier, shaking as I relive close to twenty years inside my head.
Thankfully, most of them come back in small doses if at all. I don't know if it was the wine or Weezer but the first time I ever ask a girl out came back tonight. It was fifth grade and she said no. Holy cow, I hadn't thought of that moment in decades. That's how it goes. I'm sure after tonight I may never remember that day again.
It's such a brief and pointless memory that I can't even make a story out of it. Even though between that and other unremembered events probably affect my interactions with women to this day.
I find it a bit strange that I can name the six flags that flew over Texas but I can't tell you anything about a birthday I had before 21 or so. Where was I? I'm sure I was there. I mean, I had to be, right?
Every once in a while I wonder where that folder is located.
1 comment:
I think I've scraped the old hardrive clean and installed a new OS so many times, it's a wonder I ever backed anything up at all. thank God for the VAX system or I might not EVER remember anything at ALL.
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