Remember To Forget

Three days ago I wrote this blog entry, but for some strange reason, it erased from my computer’s memory, and apparently, mine too. But let me try to remember [seats back and thinks]…

I recall I was writing about one moment I lived as a child. It was Cartagena, January 1st, 2004, more or less. The details I don’t quite bear in mind, but I still hear the heavy waves hitting the ‘malecones’ in Cartagena’s beach, while hearing the Beach Guards shouting “¡Cuidado con el mar, hay mar deleva, mantengan a sus hijos con ustedes!” Then, for a moment, my brother goes in to the sea… Then I go after him and then, black out. Next thing I remember: myself laid in the hot sand. My brother beside me. And that’s it. Nothing else feeds my memories from that day. And then, while I write this blog I ask myself, are memories a source of happiness or sorrow? Are we destined to remember our memories or forget them?

I don’t know whether I should try to remember, or try to forget what I wrote the other day. But anyways, my writing is fed by my thoughts, and right now, my thoughts are in the past. I keep in mind [drinks some Coke]…

In this first act of Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard portrays many of the characters’ memories, and how the time line jumps between present and past (Time and time). As well, the reader is able to find Lopakhin very cognizant and insensitive with himself: “I may be rich, I’ve made a lot of money, but if you think about it, analyze it, I’m a peasant through and through” (Chekhov 322). He recalls the word “peasant” a couple of times, reflecting his brutal past. Apparently his dad beat him as a child. On the other hand,the dichotomy created by his actual richness, against his past poverty shows how his self-consciousness lies within that dreary memories of his past [he stops writing].

My memory is blank. That’s more or less what I wrote the other day. Maybe I am doomed to forget it forever, as many other memories [He struggles to finish his entry. He knows tomorrow these words will be just memories]. I leave this entry like this. I don´t know who might read it, to be forgotten [He saves, posts, and done]. Oblivion.