"You forget the things you were certain you would always remember, especially the tiny things, and all too often they're the things that matter."
~Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman wrote that in his blog commenting right before "And sometimes this Blog is just a diary, or a reminder."

So we blog away, hoping we don't forget the little things. Wouldn't it be neat if there were a library of forgotten memories?

Two nights ago while I was soaking in the bath tub, I had a sudden moment of "who am I?" For a few interestingly blank moments, I didn't know who (or what) I was. Should I have been scared? I wasn't. I was curious more than anything. I looked down, saw my feet, and thought to myself, I'm a naked human female in a pool of warm water that smells of lavenders; how nice. And not too long after I was "back" to myself.

Yes, it is nice to be in a warm bath that smells of lavenders. My body doesn't feel as painful or as heavy (not just literally) and I can almost see troubling thoughts float away from me as they mingle with the steam rising from the water. As the water cools and the steam condenses, the thoughts settle back down like a thick blanket of fog that wraps around my head. When I stand up, I feel the full weight of myself again, that thought heavy in itself, and I drag the cinder blocks tied to my ankles and wrists on the way out. Well, at least, that's what it feels like.

I liked not knowing who I was.