Seriously. I want to know. Who remembers what actually? What do we remember out of all the myriad events that happen to us and around us, what determines what all we can recall, and what we forget as though they never ever took place?
My earliest memories? why this and not that? why have I only a glimpse of my small self in one position, one frame at a time amongst so many millions that happened. I only remember being a baby in a crib with a glass bottle of milk in my mouth - funny ones - shaped like a banana with nipples on both sides. Don't think they make them any more. What's so special about that night, that picture of me and my mother hovering over the crib... what's so potent? That it has been imprinted on my mind like a picture made with an indelible ink.
I wish I could remember everything that happened to me, with me, all that I ever saw, thought about, talked of... I want a film of my own life rolling in front of my eyes, so that I know what I was and where I am coming from. For, at present, whatever shape we are in, we tend to believe that we were always like that - how simplistic and delusional is that. For we are now very different than before, perhaps even unrecognisable. Maybe we were totally different people and now have been transformed into something else - reincarnated sort of.
What I felt when I was 10, 13, 18? Could it be something similar to what I think of today? or does age and circumstance matter a hell of a lot in changing our perspective. Do we start of as being one person and then end up being another? I am sure that a child sees things in her own way, while as an adult she may analyse the same sitution with newer eyes. Age matures us or so we hope, children we feel are open and accepting of things, they are not judgemental and far less cynical and hence take in things as they come without putting on a lable. When is it that as a separate person we start to catalogue and name our experiences then? Children are keen to how others treat them and it affects their physical and mental development so are they completely lacking in judgement and lableling of what happens to them?
I feel memories are full to the brim and only those come to the surface which have a subliminal message for us, these flashbacks, these sudden rushes of deja'vu, these yearnings for times gone by, these scattered dreams and bits of wishes all strewn here and there the plains of our souls.
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