Have you ever felt like this?

When flipping through the photos on your phone you suddenly find one. It was taken three/four years ago, somewhere far away from home. You look and think: ‘Was it really me?’ It is not a matter of appearance, landscape, or other details. There is something elusive. You look and feel: it was a completely different person. He or she thought about something, wanted something, felt something that was already gone. So this person is not here. But … it’s me. I am here. For some reason, it is in this photograph that the world around us seems not real but lost. A strange feeling of alienation to oneself and one’s image and at the same time, a sense of complicity, because that second was real for sure. 

Memory boxes.Thinking out loud.

What am I talking about? 

Maybe there is nothing special here. It’s just that time has passed and life has changed, and I have become different, some kind of story has ended. Everything passes sooner or later, right? But … what if it’s not? What if all the feelings and events of that day from the old photo are stored in me today?

Somewhere deep in the back of the memory, there are special boxes, with and without lids. Those that are open contain such memories that are often used, for example, your phone number or your favorite childhood story. Others are closed. They are impressions that had to be released on time to free your boxes for something new. But the impressions turned out to be strong, sticky and thick, like a liter of grandmother’s jam.

They were conserved inside the box with the firm intention not to go anywhere, just quietly wait for the moment to prick more painfully or to cheer more friendly…sooner or later, but definitely on time. It’s a little iffy, it depends on your luck. Nothing personal. They don’t mean to offend, just didn’t know where to go. This is how they remained ballast, which every year is becoming heavier, which you drag at all costs, even after moving to a deserted island or the North Pole. No matter where you aim. Boxes are always with you.

Someone will call it our subconscious, another person will consider it life experience, and someone will say that these are just obsessions. But you can’t let them go, the cells are built into the brain box forever. You can only close the lids and do not shake your head too much so that they will behave quietly … Or you could just not watch old photos)

2 thoughts on “Boxes of memories. In a nutshell about the subconscious.”

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