Box

There is an opened box on my floor just waiting for me to pack away some memories. I am a bit of a hoarder, I fill empty shoe, book or indeed, any box I have with things from my past which I'll keep forever.
I love my memories but since my real memory is slowly fading the mementos help me to recall events that have become foggy.
When I die someone will have to sort through all my boxes and they will throw away my life. They will discard old movie tickets and items which have personal resonance for me will mean nothing to them. The dummy egg will be tossed into the rubbish pile along with my memories. My personal history will be wiped clean as my personal items are destroyed.

Memory

I love memories. I don't live in the past, I just enjoy the random memories that surface throughout time.

Like when Lauren got stolen by the Polish man called Roman who forced her to sing the Polish national anthem in the train station.

Or when Heather, Lauren and I pick-nicked outside of our closing school. We had a tartan rug and a baguette from Tesco. Heather had blue hair at the time and Lauren wore a stripy top.

I remember things from my early childhood.

From my holidays in China where the restaurants had tanks full of live animals for you to pick your dinner.

Watching Original series Batman because it was the only programme in English apart from the news and weather.

The holiday to Jordan where we toured the Roman ruins in Aquaba.

Of course there are bad memories...but the less said of them the better.

My memory used to be so good, so crystal clear.

Now I struggle to remember what happened yesterday...
I struggle to remember the details of things that happened...
And the past and present are slowly slipping out of my grasp and into the ever-increasing fog and buzz of my mind.

AEx