I have a really bad memory. I can’t remember things that are very long, so what I have to do is remember a little piece of them and figure out what the rest of it says from fresh, every time I think of them. There are a few things that I keep going back to but I never actually successfully put them together. Something about them sticks in my memory and I flag them — I know that they are important — it’s actually a physical feeling, a certain tightness I think in my stomach or expectation of motion in my arms and chest and shoulders — and then I bring them to memory and try to think what they mean, but I never successfully do it.
Some of these things are:
“I know that I know nothing”
“The size of the thumb and dwelling in the heart — that is the soul”
“Time considered as a helix of semi-precious stones”
“The reason we embrace a morality — that itself is never moral”
“God had to remove himself from reality in order to make room for creation”
“time is a moving picture of eternity”.
I don’t understand what any of this means! But I keep re-reading it, whether in marks on paper or marks in my own memory.
People on the other hand are the opposite. I feel like I understand them because I have the bodily memory of being close to them — smelling them, putting my face in their flesh or their clothes. Mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, brother. But this is wrong; the older I get the more I realize that I don’t understand them at all; it just seems like I do because of the emotional closeness.