I don’t know which would be more frustrating – not remembering anything or trying to bring back memories? Of course both in futility.
I think I’m scared of growing old because it’ll take me much farther from memories. I think I’ll hate it when I have to eat up my words about “regrets are just a waste of time”. I think I’ll hate it too when time comes that I have to use the phrase “those were the days”. To point out the obvious, what’s more frustrating is that try as you may, there’s absolutely no way to make those memories neither alive nor back. Funny how happy thoughts can make one sad.
That can be the same reason why I’m scared of having Alzheimer’s.
Disclaimer: All these marriages and deaths and birthdays and the Velvet Dream Pop album induced these thoughts.
