I called this blog randomly accesible memories because I often access my own memories in a very haphazard fashion. Mostly through association. The merest wiff of a cologne that's been collecting dust on a shelf for over a decade rockets me onto Cantebury's high street where I bought it on market day lightyears away.
But I don't always know how to get where I really want my thoughts to go.
I have often noticed that unsolvable problems can be best solved by indirect thought.
When I was a child I lived for the moment, and when I thought about my life, which was blessedly seldom, I mostly thought about what lay before me. But the older I get the more I live in memories of the past. And time accelerates like a runnaway train. My memories aren't in folders or lists or any logical order. There might be an index, but I've never seen it. My mind jumps restlessly from one thought to another, randomly accessing my memories.
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