The other day I was sitting in bed when I suddenly had this brilliant memory flash in my mind and remind me of something I had completely forgotten. It was a fantastic moment that once remembered I felt instantly happy, but when I thought about the fact it was so distant now it made me sad.
I thought how easy it is to forget our blissful memories losing them to the past that was at once our present and only conscious image now buried frantically under every new hour. That a time once so prominent and significant to us is thrown away to today's present, where tomorrow does not even exist.
How many other moments have I unknowingly lost in that mysterious brain of mine? I have lived thousands of hours and intend to live thousands more but they will all be squashed and forgotten so mercilessly under the ever growing present and future.
Why must some moments stick out forever and never be taken away by time and others, although equally as important, be locked in a box deep in my subconscious? If I could only choose when they slip out occasionally and perform me a show of my own past.
For I do not suggest dwelling on our personal histories, but to let them disappear forever seems an awful shame. Must my subconscious and time only choose to remember? Can I not decide when to make the present and future pause for a moment whilst I happily, or solemnly, dip into my memory?
I am glad that I got to remember that one brilliant memory, but I can only hope that the hundreds I have hiding somewhere miraculously spring out and surprise me in a similar manner. It would certainly be a tragedy to know I could never bring my past to life and only to let it die in the back of my unthinking mind.
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