When You Forget The Thing
Or, The Problem With Auto-Ads: A short memoir.
Ever have something great to write down? You think of it; you’re sitting there, at the computer, and all of a sudden it’s a race: Gotta mute the things and change over to the other screen, where you have 5 windows open to 27 tabs per, and 13 of them are queuing sound — so your RAM is just freaking the fuck out, like, for never-ending time — and then but you finally mute all the sounds and get past the minimizations of all but one of the windows and now you’ve drilled down to the text field on the webpage on tab 11 of 27, and you “click to enter text” … and then you wait there for a little bit while the mouse catches up, because Jesus fucking Christ, but alright; great, okay. We’re there (ooooh, this is so good I can’t wait to…) …
… … .. fuck. It’s fucking gone. Oh, my god, it’s gone. Okay, okay, okay.. and you try to get it back, and you can! You can, I can; okay, you just have to do some of the things you were doing when you had the thought — just do the things, and you’ll remember the stuff.
So you do the things. You follow each and every step and action you took that led up to the thought: You touch the round thing and move half of it about an inch and a half away, and then you think the thoughts that came before the thought you had, because you remember those — all of them — of course; you can remember everything if you try. You tell yourself the entire time that you’re on the right track and it’s going to be alright because you’re almost to the place you were when you had the thought, and it’s coming up, and it’s .. almost … it’s al.. most….
It’s almost there, but it won’t. It won’t come back to you, because it’s the one thing you want to remember most, and life is a troll. It’s gone. But, damnit, anyway … you’ve got to write something. Stupid fucking computers.
Oh, and auto-play ads suck.