J’ai oublié

Everything in my memory floats away to some irretrievable place.

Heaps of unimportant, dusty, old thoughts collect somewhere in my cerebrum. 

There is so much unaccounted for.

My memories are a whirlwind of the bizarre, nostalgic and random occurrences of my life.

I know I have forgotten so much. I will never get it back.

Am I only an assembly of what I happen to remember?

Do the other experiences play any part? 

I doubt sometimes if I have a subconscious drive.

I am far too conscious of nearly everything within myself.

Remind me, someone, of those points in my life.

My memory does not serve me as it should, maybe I don’t serve it.

If nothing is ever really forgotten, then huge pieces of ourselves still linger up there.

Waiting to be remembered.

Which makes me wonder… Is it as frustrating to those irretrievable memories as it is to us?