Ghosts

It has been suggested, by those who might be placed to know, that one of the valuable qualities of human beings is their ability to forget things. That in these modern times, when everything can be stored and recalled almost literally forever, that nothing will ever be forgotten, and that this, in fact, may not be a good thing.

I'm not sure how I feel about that. On the face of it i have always been against losing things of any sort, and precious memories and knowledge must surely be things to preserve. The value and historical context of something, and the nostalgia which it would bring in the future, cannot possibly be known in the present, and so it logically follows that everything should be preserved, so that nothing is lost to future historians.

Then again, while searching for easily-recyclable words of wisdom of the past which I can use to fill my blogging backlog, most of what I've found so far leaves me very slightly detached from myself. Did I really write these things? I have almost no memory of them.

I note that I stored various bits and pieces, which others had written and that I had read online, along with the things I wrote myself at about the same time. It is not always obvious which ones are which. One or two things have surprised me as I have almost no modern-day recollection of writing them, or why, or what on earth I was thinking, yet it seems highly likely that I did.

As a child I was used to always knowing where things were, and remembering things that had happened. My recall was so clear, so true, that there was never any question that I was absolutely always right. Part of that still remains, but the memories do seem to have faded. There genuinely does seem to be much that I've forgotten, and yet surely it cannot have been that long, surely my life is still young and my memory should be strong for decades to come yet.

Alas, I fear that it was never the case. I know I forget things, and yet even with the comforting thought that perhaps I only forget what is not important, I know too that it does not seem to turn out that way. That already thoughts and ideas, communications and conversations that I have had with others may already have left me.

Since I don't record all my phone calls or carry a tape recorder around with me all the time (perhaps I should) it does not seem that there will be many chances to remember what I have lost. Unlike these random bits of text on my computer, the most recent troublesome writings which I have been examining dating from around 1992 or so.

I really have almost no memory of this. Why on earth did I write these things down? Did I ever consider these phrases and ridiculous attitude to be noteworthy? What on earth could have been wrong with my mind at this time? How could I have ever chosen to express myself in such a thoroughly artless manner? Fundamentally, who wrote this? 19 years ago is not that long - it could seem that way, but I've been in my current employment for 16, and that does give the timeline some context. But this is a complete other person, a side of me I'd forgotten I had and still don't quite recognise.

In a sense, whoever it was, it wasn't the person I became. Then again, with another 20 years, maybe even the person I am now is not the person I will become. Even this period of my life, well covered by blogs and email archives, will offer a less thorough recall of my life than my future self would seek, I am sure.

Perhaps another good reason to blog every day, even if what I have to say does not seem interesting now, maybe these memories will apall, or hopefully amuse, me in a future life. So it can't be all bad, eh.