A Brief Temporal Lament In Verse...no, not really. (I'm no great Poet) 6/02

There seems to be an odd, annoying thing that happens when you get older and you leave certain things and people and places and lives and experiences behind, for your memory (or at least, my memory) begins to fail and you can't remember much if anything about those elements so relevant and component to your past. I can not remember a great deal of things that I really wished I did remember, I could remember. There are important things, and things that seem to be of no real consequence. Things like who was in some of my homerooms throughout the years 1988-1998 for instance. Or, did I even have a homeroom teacher, like an official one, in freshman year? And things like that. Also, who did I used to talk to? I mean, did I ever talk to the people then that I talk to, am friends with and like now? Oh yeah, sure, some of them I've always known, but that isn't necessarily the same. Sometimes, though I have hypnagogic regressions, that is: flashbacks. I suddenly remember elements from that time, from Kittery. It is often quite jolting...even when the memory that has been regained and remembered is a positive, beneficial one. Because occasionally the force and power and ephemeral reality of the memory is almighty, to say the least. And it is almost as if, when the regained memory resurfaces, that I am living that moment, the moment in the bygone past instead of in the here and now. For instance, though this is only marginally compatible with and apropos of the preceding sentiment, but: I remember computer class quite vividly, but who was in it with me? Was Amelap in it, too, for example? These are the questions that I cannot answer. Thus, I long for a time machine. Not so much to relive my past, as heavenly and carefree and sunny as it may have been, but rather to recall those things that now I cannot. To regain the castoff portions and elements and minutiae and faciae of the past. In termium dementis. (Note: I made that up. It sounds like it is plausible Latin, but so far as I know it is totally fake! And jocular. For I mean people to laugh when they look upon that, buried as it is in so much lamentable, sentiment hogwash. Not that I think it is sentimental, you understand.)