January 31, 2018•141 words
I get mad at myself when I forget something that would have been very much of help to remember. I’ll be tracking down one bug, and find myself traveling through forgotten worlds whose functioning seems totally alien. What are you? What do you do? Sure, they’ll be some comments here and there, but almost mindless in nature. As if it were a chore.
If only I had written it down. If only I left clues for my forgetful future self. I could be such a more evolved, intelligent being. But instead I say, it’s not important. Or, I’ll remember. Or, surely this doesn’t need to be written down?
I am present self, caught in the mis-circumstances of my habitual non-verbosity, and I write this to every version of my future self: Yes. You need to write it down. Write everything down.