The Starting Point

I just remembered a song I’d written.

I remembered it. Which means I’d forgotten it. It is called Premier Man, and I remembered it because I wrote it in a Premier Inn, and that’s where I am right now.

But how many things have I forgotten? How many things have I forgotten that will never come back to me again? How does my brain, without the obvious reminders like the one I just experienced, decide what I should remember, and what should remain forever in Oblivion

What is important for my survival? For my revival? For this one life?

The crazy thing is, that I just don’t know the answer to any of these questions. My own attempts at keeping anything at the forefront of my mind are arbitrary and highly subjective. And my brain makes all the other decisions independently of my input.

In other words, I don’t really know what I’m doing. And on the surface that seems like a bad thing. A very bad thing.

On the other hand perhaps this crumb of knowledge is the starting point for everything. Maybe it can breed the humility that strips away those delusions of personal omniscience. The first step to seeing things as they really are.

Anyway, hopefully I’m not bringing you down with all these seemingly nihilistic meanderings of my mind. If it’s any consolation, it’s having the opposite affect on me.

Have a nice day!