My mind is like a trap. And also an onion. For those I meet that only reach the outer-most layers of acquaintance, I’m SUPER bad with names. Sorry. But if our relationship has progressed to the inner, sweeter layers of friendship, chances are that I’ve collected an absurd and occasionally awkward amount of data on you. My artist mind, always tuned in to details & my senses; my anxiety & its ever-present hyper vigilance; and my deep fascination/love of people & desire to understand them, together result in a very active information-gathering brain. Always.
Consequently, there’s a whole lot of STUFF I’ve got stored in my brain somewhere, waiting for the most random times to jump out & grab my attention.
Secret confessions, fragments of hearts, odes to long-dead relationships, hovering in the limbo of my mind like lost library books… ”Things I diligently memorized about you.”
This image, oddly, brought up one of those from the deep dark filing cabinets of my mind. Rather than sharing that specific useless and, who knows, perhaps no longer true anecdote (for we all change), I dedicate this caption to the sentimental, poetic notion that unpredictable pieces of ourselves continue to exist, unable to be suppressed, in those we’ve cared about, long after we cease to be.
