I have a bad memory, it would seem. I remember things that didn’t happen. I read things I can’t find later. I own things that vanish. I hear music that no one has ever heard of. I have conversations that never happened… well you get the idea.
It’s an interesting phenomenon, having memories for things that didn’t exist. I’ve written about three main ones, but that’s certainly not all of it.
I’ve had a lot of conversations with friends over the years where, should I have the same conversation again at a later date, the response is not only completely different, but they deny ever having said the original statements at all.
For instance, back in 83, me and one of my friends, Glenn, went to see the movie First Blood.
At the time, I enjoyed it, being young and all, and Glenn remarked as we discussed it afterwards that if the book was as good as the movie, then he was certainly going to enjoy it.
At this point, I should mention that for many, many years, I kept a diary. It was meticulous, and for whatever reason, I would often write down my friend’s comments, or conversations, verbatim. I was pretty good at remembering the details back then. So, if I needed to remember something, I would just go back and look it up.
This was one of those comments, but oddly enough, a couple of years later, he said he had read the book before seeing the movie, and explained how he had enjoyed the book and had been looking forward to movie.
I’ve had quite a few similar conversations with Glenn over the years, making me scratch my head as to why he would take opposing viewpoints, especially when he just wasn’t that type of personality. In fact, Glenn is pretty meticulous with his facts and has an excellent memory and I’ve never seen him joke or try to screw around with someone’s head.
The same thing happened with my friend Paul. (who I was with during that incident at Hanging Rock). Not only would he have a completely different memory of events, but when he told a story, there would be variances in them. Even one story, which he told several times, changed from one version to another, and then back again.
In fact, we had so many arguments about what happened that I was convinced that he had the worst memory of anyone I knew. Yes, he was more than adamant that he was right.
But it didn’t stop there. Often, people would attribute things to me that I had never said or done. For instance, my ex-wife and her daughter swore black and blue that I hated seeing movie previews.
Odd thing was, not only did I enjoy them, but I don’t recall ever even suggesting I hated them. Yet, both shouted me down, saying that I had said so.
Then there were events in history that seemed to change. Things which I was taught were real become just stories, and stories were actual events.
An example of his was in regards to Hanging Rock. One night, a group of us climbed up it and Paul and me discussed that he had thought the story based on Picnic at Hanging Rock was real, but he now understood that it was just fiction.
I had recently heard the same thing, and had also believed it had happened, especially as Glenn had once mentioned that his grandmother actually remembered the incident, and the local view was that the girls had just gone off with some boys.
It would seem that my entire life is peppered with such inconsistencies.
As I said, it could be a bad memory, but there was one incident that really left its mark on me and helped to unravel what might be going on.
Next: The unexpected death.
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- Paranormal experiences or you expect me to sleep with that going on? (areyouanempath.com)
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