Memory Loss and Storytelling

The trend in recent years has become to record events almost in the instant they unfold. Facebook status, “away” message, blog-spots and word-presses, photographs from the night before viewed by all the morning after. When did we all become so afraid of our own memories? Do we really not trust ourselves enough to remember these occasions so momentous?

I personally am afraid I will be entirely forgotten. Rubbed off the map somehow, or simply replaced.

But what I know is that people don’t ever really forget. They carry things around with them until the day they die, even if they never reflect on a time or a person or place ever again. Things happened to you, things shaped you. ..But still, why the manic immediacy? So much raw material and information can damage. Things are overlooked and warped by your present bias. I’m guilty of looking for answers for situations present, that don’t have answers. They probably have an answer that goes something like this: C’est la vie.

I want to tell perfectly true stories, woven with fantastical details. The fantastical details are the truest parts of any really good story, and often mistaken for the mundane: what you thought about when you woke up, your friend walking round with their shirt inside-out, the way the music felt in your stomach or the disputed color of your loved ones eyes.