Through the day, not just today but over the last few days, I’ve been thinking of things to write on here.
There was something interesting I heard today. It’d have been fictional. A made-up situation in a real-enough setup that was itself funny.
I had made up my mind to develop it. It was going to be as interesting to think about as it would be to write.
Today evening, when I sat down to write about it, the idea had disappeared.
This is not new. This is known. I may have written about it already.
I tried so many different things to bring it back. Breadth first search. Thought of all the people I talked to today. Depth first search. Let me try to replay the topics and conversations I went through today.
Chocolates, books, all of it.
I can’t think of a metaphor that does justice to this. Trying to get the last bit of ghee out of a bottle? No - because you can see where it exactly is. You know how much ghee is left. With a dextrous enough wiggle of the spoon you’ll have it.
Let’s strip the situation down to what we have here and reconstruct a metaphor from scratch. I know this thing I’m looking for is real, and it exists in a bounded space - the conversations I had today and the thoughts those conversations set off.
I do have a sense of its shape. I know it was a stray thought I had at the end of something someone said. I know it was funny. I know I was planning to write about it. I remember thinking that I would forget this.
It’s hazy, almost dark. Because I don’t remember the conversations clearly. The best way to remember those conversations is to pick up a thread and follow it. The challenge is, many of the threads themselves are lost. And one thread, when picked up, would have missing pieces and would end abruptly.
In a dark, hazy room full of invisible threads. Invisible threads hanging around, some of which you choose to follow to some unknown, unknowable length. There lies an object you know exists. You don’t know where or how far. You think you remember the shape of it. All in vain. Let’s go back.
Partly sure that the bundle you wanted to find and hold on to is lost to time, you walk out of the room of your memories into the light of everyday life.