On the weekend, a friend asked me 'If I can't remember things that I experience, what's the point of them even happening? If I just forget these things, do they even really happen?' I thought this to be a...well, profound question. It took me a minute to process. Eventually i told her if a moment evokes a certain emotion, does that not give it significance? If this forgotten moment has at one point created happiness, agnst or anger (etc.) it has to mean something.
...Days later i'm sitting at my computer, still thinking of this question. Thinking of the weight of memory and time. The memory is hardly infallible; things are lost through the holes of consciousness all the time - I mean, i'll often walk into a room, look around and think 'now why am I in here again?' But to question the purpose of those many forgotten instances - that is unsettling. All the kisses, the touches, the tears, the moments of laughter, the moments of agony that have been left in the past, they cannot be completely worthless...can they?
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