Forgetting Too Much

I forget too much. If yesterday I thought too much, today I’ve forgotten all about the sad things I thought about and am left with a clean slate to think about them again. I have thousands of empty notebooks waiting to be filled. I have tried check-in apps and logs, but again the root is forgetting. Even an alarm doesn’t seem to work, either:

a) I don’t set it, or
b) it goes off, I see it, get distracted, and forgot it went off.

A bit of a chasing my own tail scenario I’ve got going. If I come up with a sense of purpose and passion – and Idea of where I want to go next, by the next day – it’s drifted and forgotten.

Things… the things that I surround myself seem to be like little Harry Potter like talismans, storing memories. Like the pen I use, the coffee cup I drink from. The desk and chair I sit at. The room that’s just for work.

Habitual patterns… habit seems to help. If by chance I do something enough, then it starts to trigger a pattern, and that pattern triggers a memory. Like hours studying at home transitions well to working from home. When I went back to school I wrote more notes than I ever did the first time round and interestingly enough, although my personal journals are empty – my work journals are stacking up – all full.

Things & habits. Habits & things.

Fuck I hope I remember this tomorrow – wait, I will!

Guess I did forget.
I had originally written this about a year ago in an old defunct blog of mine.
Now it’s time to remember, blow off the dust and give it a new home.