Forgetit

One evening seated by the table I heard a small sound and felt a peculiar sensation. Almost as soon as it came I half forgot about it for a moment and felt strangely like I had forgotten something important, but the procession of mental events seemed to trickle on, one feeling replacing the next in rapid succession 'till what remained was a vague feeling of nostalgic euphoria. I realised I was quite tired and looked at my watch and then at my work and then began to wander from room to room looking for something. I poked holes in piles of unkept things and soon had properly rinsed my mind in more old memories than I had anticipated, seeking only the tiny object to finish the job in order to be able to do the next thing. I heard something and turned around. I could have imagined what happened next but I must have followed a shadow or a ghost but it felt familiar enough, yet I did forget I was alone. Nonetheless, I was in a half-hearted conversation with the impression before I remembered what I had forgotten. That feeling from before! The sensation. I began to feel the sleep in my hand and realised I’d been lying rather awkwardly on the stupid thing. Damn! It slipped my mind again, this forsaken idea. I got up for something to quench my thirst, and while waiting for the water to boil I counted the nails on my toes that I needed to cut and wondered when I would get around to it. I was certainly too transfixed in my daydreaming to be very useful for a while. I began to ponder again the technique of acupuncture and quite how deep the needles go, and quite what for? I really would like one day to know, or at least to try it. I thought of Batman and his battles with his fears and felt like I was almost remembering something important. Like a dream I might have wanted to hold on to, or maybe something I was trying to forget. Either way, I couldn’t remember the last time I had spoken to another living being and felt distinctly alone, yet within a vacuum of such isolation, nothing could be discerned as quite distinct except of course the two subjects mentioned for no apparent reason. I must remember to breathe before I forget not to disappear. I almost threw my cup, jerking my hand in retaliation. I was about to leave when I heard the water boil but I wasn’t thirsty anymore so I turned the element off and decided I needed some socks. I began considering ideas out of the ordinary, indeed, quite original, but quite useless. I heard water running in the bathroom. Like the toilet filling, but my toes were cold and I didn’t care that the broken nails would hook the wool, I was tired. It was due time to sleep. Ice was on the windows and I felt uneasy, but I fought off the depression and got some red socks. At last, something was done. But the bed looked cold and I still felt alone. But to notice it was taboo, and I put on the TV to distract myself. Remembering was a vicious cycle, and there isn’t much use.