Chain of Memories

After months of trying to decide what to do in life, I've decided I want to be a writer, thanks to the help of my trusty little blog. I'd just like to add it's yet to let me down. In order to improve my somewhat adequate writing skills, Brittany and I have decided to write on a certain topic every day. Practice makes perfect, right? So we brainstormed a bunch of topics, assigned them numbers, and put them all in a hat. Number 17 was drawn out: Memories.

Now I'm sure most of you have been thinking, is she going to write about that new Kingdom Hearts game for Playstation 2? Alas, it was a cool title and I'm strictly using it for the cool factor; my blog has absolutely nothing to do with Sora, Donald, and Goofy fighting off the evils of the world with the help of other loved Disney characters along the way. I fear I am speaking too much of Kingdom Hearts, and nothing about memories. It happens to the best of us when furry little creatures are involved.

Ok, so memories. We all have them, some of us remember them, some of us are not as fortunate. I heard from my Papa once that if you starve yourself, one of the first things to go are your memories. That shot fear into my heart immediately! I ate two cheeseburgers, a large fries, frosty, and a Code Red on ice, crushed ice, just to make sure all my memories would remain intact. So, if your considering starving yourself, I recommend writing all of your memories in a journal before you do so. Let's be smart about this people, well as smart as you can be when you're considering to cease eatting.

Memories have always drawn my interest. To put an image to my words, think of me as a cat, preferrably a yellow one similar to the looks of Cheeto and memories as a ball of yarn, blue, stringing me along from day to day. The frays in the yarn are the forgotten memories. Man I'm good at this metaphor stuff. That brings up a weird thought...how do you know you have forgotten memories? You become unaware of their existence...you will never know that you lost a memory unless some jack-n-ape asks, "Remember when....?" Which results in, "No. Thanks for that...really wanted to know my brain's slowly detoirating my memories." Those experiences usually end in me eatting more food, just in case that's the cause of these missing memories. Then once you know that memory is forever gone, a cold empty feeling, lets call it an ice cream cone replaces where your memory once was and the knowledge of it's disappearance rests on your shoulders forever. No matter what, you will never get that memory back from your viewpoint.

Well hate to leave on such a happy note, but duty calls! By duty I mean my stomach is grumbling similar to that of a beast and I don't want to take any chances on losing another memory. Thanks for that Dad, when I'm a 237 pound walrus full of memories, we will all know who to blame!