bad, it's not good

I was trying to remember something the other day.

What I was trying to remember was insignificant. But that's why it was so important to me.

It's very insignificantness* was the driving force.

I was focused.

Since my journals are in a box underneath many boxes in my utility closet (all the boxes being heavy) I had to rely on memory to do this.

What I've learned is that I can recall the smallest details about things that happened decades ago.

Brains. They're just fancier computers (in most cases).

But minds and brains - aren't they different things?

Whatever. It's all in there.

I've heard it before.

I was never old enough for it to be remarkable.

(until now)

In any case, I remembered what I was trying to remember - and everything else.

This kind of activity takes time. Mulling things over while trying to not think about anything else (electing to become preoccupied with something insignificant) - requires focus, requires not reading, not watching movies, but only cleaning, only mopping, only folding (as well as a few sheets of paper, a pen, both yellow and pink highlighters, and beer).

Consequently, I'm now indignant about certain things that happened (fifteen) years ago (all over again).

Because what was good was good. But was bad is bad.

Was. Is.

And bad is not good.

It's a pot best unstirred.

My mind.

I know this now.

It's sweet and sour.

It's olive oil, lemon juice. A couple sprigs of parsley.

Or cilantro.

(maybe some horseradish..)



* not a word