I have been thinking about memories quite a bit today. (Why stems from the fact that the film Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and it references good and bad memories a decent amount. And since nothing better has presented itself this Saturday afternoon I have been sitting on my couch drinking Vodka and Red Bulls and watching Harry Potter. Don't judge me. I mean I suppose you will, but I could give two fucks. I know who I am and I am proud of the man I have become. But the issue of Pride will be addressed in later writings. Back on track.) And thinking of memories raises some thoughts. What do I remember? What "good" things? What "bad" things? Do I remember the first time I ever did this that or the other?
And that raised more questions. What exactly is a good memory versus a bad memory? Oh I mean I'm not so deep and philosophical that I cannot judge some good experiences from some bad ones, but somethings may be more subtle. For example: I can remember how nervous I was the first time I asked a girl to Homecoming. At the time it turned out well, that is to say she said Yes. Then down the road a short while I wished I had not asked her. Now further along I can look at that memory with warm fondness. Maybe it is because as one is more separated by time from an event, the more one's mind wants to look fondly on that event.
And while Revisionism provides an easy, if cynical, reason for this mental phenomena it raises the question: why then do we antagonize over (perceived) embarrassments and failures from out past?
But an obligation will cut short my musings. This topic will be revisited.