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3/28/09 / Grab

12:04 AM I sat there, in the rental car in the strange parking lot, waiting. And as I waited, I wondered what I was doing here, in this foreign city, waiting for a foreign body, someone to share a few days with and then never see again…

It has occurred to me that memories are exactly like slides – the kind made from slide film like Fujichrome Velvia. That trusty Kodak carousel projector inside our heads plays them back for us (if only without that convoluted-sounding switching mechanism in play every time the slide changes).

But what if the slides fall out of order and get randomized in the projector in our minds? Slides from an event two years ago get mixed up with one from ten years ago, etc.? The mind becomes confused and disoriented; if the memories are strongly emotive it gets dragged into a cesspool of which it is sometimes hard to come out of; a cesspool of reactive emotions and regrets and (less frequently) pleasures. Longings for what was, what has been, what could have been, and so on and so forth.

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