Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Where did all the words go?
Year and years ago I used to be able to pull words from my gray matter like a magician pulls rabbits out of his hat. Always the perfect word for the situation. In milliseconds I could come up with a razor sharp wit and put verbal bullies in their place. I once had a supervisor in near tears and running to his boss. Mattered not to me as he was a boob and nobody liked him anyway. Needless to say I don't like stupid people especially when my own skin is involved. But, where the hell was I? Oh yea, the loss of mental acuity. After spending 16 years stuffing my brain with information, somewhere along the trip some evil event happens. As if some invisible hole has been drilled somewhere in the back of the skull. Quickly painlessly the hole magically appeared. And you can't even tell it's there. So slowly without notice that mass of facts drips like a Chinese water torture out the back of your head never to return. It's not as if you notice this phenomena being so slow and painless. And it's not like stepping into a room only to realize you forgot why you went there in the first place. It's devilishly worse. Trying to remember an instructor of a few years back even though I've worked with him on numerous jobs and seen him several times since yet there I stand a total blank. Digging deep in the recesses of my mind trying desperately to not look the fool. I'll fake it. You know give that warm and cordial greeting. Great to see you again, haven't seen you in quite some time. Ah, it worked I've fooled him into thinking. But then as you are about to retire for the night and that area between sleep and awake slowly slips away his name comes to you and you rise up from the covers and shout "That's his name! Damn just couldn't think of it"
Buuut, then there's a book or a paper that you know you've read. The cover is part of the room decore you've passed it for years then in a moment of bordom you pick it up open and it's as if someone changed the words. Nothing formilar. Logic dictates that the words are the same but the mind changed. And just as you think it's coming back to you the mind goes on a tangent. You put the book down and wonder why you came in the room in the first place.