33 lines
1.4 KiB
Markdown
33 lines
1.4 KiB
Markdown
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layout = "post"
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title = "Some things stick"
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date = "2018-01-02"
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categories = ["life"]
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tags = ["aphantasia"]
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creator = "Evan Kirby"
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My blind mind’s eye pretty effectively neuters my memory. Because I can’t recall the image of a situation, I often can’t recall it at all. Forgetting where I put things is the rule, not the exception, for me.
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Cruel joke of the gods, that. Give a man who’s greatest fear is loss a memory that deprecates rapidly. Moments come and go. Memories mostly go. It is the way of things, and there isn’t a great deal I can do about it. So I bear it.
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Some things stick, though.
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A moment with a sufficient degree of emotional resonance will stick with me, even if I remain unable to recall the image of it in my head.
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Moments like the splintering of an innocent heart. Theirs, or mine.
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Moments like the ignition of passion. Spark striking flame, a mushroom fireball.
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Moments like those of greatest gain. And of greatest loss.
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My mind is like a sieve, selecting if not the particularly good or bad, but the significant of all kinds. Mostly, though, the sand of time streams through. Always a blessing and a curse.
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