Memoirs Found in a Swimming Pool (fragments)

It’s been a good year for tits and sparrows. Not so much for one of the blackbirds that visited the garden. One summer day I found his spouse dead on a doormat. She didn’t look damaged. I believe she broke her neck hitting the glass door. Perhaps she was the first of her kind to notice mirror image. Suddenly the garden doubled and so did the potential. I buried her in the backyard. I like to think that the pair that occupies the garden now is the same one I observed last year. Female blackbirds are just as aggressive as males in defending their stuff. As for single males, they are a curious bunch. If you don’t scare them, they might follow you for some time probably thinking they could kick your ass if they wanted to.

I’ve been busy. Apart from birds, I’ve been watching stars and weather. Also partying at Diotyma’s. There’s not much regularity in nature. Things seem to develop in a rather violent manner which should not surprise anyone living on a potato shaped planet in a universe governed by the second law of thermodynamics. I’ve been busy having my mind blown by scientific developments, and also by the progress of entropy in one human spirit. You could take everything one remembers at the peak of their mental capacity and put it in an average size library. You can read the medium size library in a couple of years if you have relatively good eyes. You can also lose everything you remember in a moment or a couple of years. Just like that, as Goldie would put it.

The acquired nonexistence of memory is hardly a bliss. There comes the point where the needs of the body cannot be reasonably fulfilled if short term buffer is too short. Bukowski wrote that everyone suffers, but nobody suffers as the poor people suffer. It’s true, but also nobody suffers from boredom, loneliness, and depression the way people with no memory do.

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