I used to be afraid of not being able to remember what my life was; the events that happened; all the little details that made everything special/different/horriblywrong/wonderful, and I'm pretty sure my brain has been shrinking (or succumbing to the evil that is Age/wrinkles) because I find myself not remembering things when people ask me questions like 'so what is the most evil thing you've done' or 'what is the saddest thing to have happened to you'. My life has been in placebo so much that I have forgotten these events (mostly unpleasant) that made me, into the person that I am, and I am finding that I am taking longer to recall the events, but I do, and I remember acutely the emotions then, and my thoughts at that time.
So I'm good. For now, no need for a diary, not yet at least. But may blogger live forever, so I can remember what I was thinking, what I felt, and how I felt at this very moment.
:)
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