our memories are wrapped
our memories are wrapped
in cushions of untruths. when
you say i recall, how much is it
a re-calling, a re-placement of
the conditions – the sounds,
the tastes, even that puncturing
aroma of sweet and savory,
the one that beckons bite me
.
20120413:0815
y
y 
My mom used to tell me I accidentally drank a small bottle of perfume when I was a kid…and got sent to the hospital to get “pumped” for that. For some reason I could never recall such a thing. After she told that story several times, though, I was beginning to “remember” it…like it actually happened.
it’s really amazing how memory works, and how unreliable it is – i read this article in the Wired Magazine a couple of months ago: http://www.wired.com/magazine/2012/02/ff_forgettingpill/all/1. enjoy, and thank you for sharing!