82 - Blurry blobs of feelings.
joneworlds@mailbox.org

Even though everyone in this colony wears the same
brown robes  and has the  same hair (none),  it is
men and  women and etc. all  together. That brings
with it all the good  and less good things you can
think of with that  arrangement. But it's not like
this group  is all  strict and  ascetic in  how we
interact  with each  other, and  so it's  actually
sort of fun living here.  As long as you also like
eating oatmeal,  I guess.  And memorizing  lots of
stuff,  for our  buryings. I'll  write more  about
that sometime soon.

But the  weirdest thing for  me these days,  is my
memory  of  stuff.   I  don't know  if  it's  that
strangely-flavored something they  put in the food
or what. But it's like  my recollection of my life
before  I  came here  is  getting,  I don't  know,
foggy? I remember living in that camper in Burloo,
but I'll be  darned if I can remember  the name of
the guy in the house there that I worked with.  Or
even  exactly what  I was  doing, I  think it  was
something to  do with  plumbing.  I feel  like I'm
losing  details every  day.   And I  know I  lived
somewhere else  earlier this year, and  I had some
friends, and  before that a family,  and something
happened to  them, and  it was  bad.  I  think.  I
recollect something of phases and transitions, but
somehow I  cannot remember names or  places or the
look of  things, or  anything specific.   It's all
just blurry  blobs of  feelings standing in  for a
thing that  must have  happened, but I  can't tell
what.

Now that I'm recovering  and socializing more with
the colony  members in the main  hall, sometimes I
try  to  join  the  conversation.   Somebody  says
something they did the other day, repairing one of
the  vans  for instance.   And  it  reminds me  of
something about a truck I  think I once owned. And
I  start to  say  something, but  I  got to  stop.
Because when  I go to  recall, all the  pieces are
missing and  I got nothing  to say.  I  think it's
not just me.  I see that look in the others.  It's
like  they are  listening, and  they lean  forward
like  they want  to add  something, and  then they
look confused and embarrassed and stay quiet. It's
that same kind of look  people get when they think
they  recognize someone,  but then  they see  it's
actually not them.

Maybe  that's why  all the  talk here  is kind  of
small and  circular. It's like everyone  tells the
same  jokes  over and  over,  and  you talk  about
yesterday and the day before, and that's all.  Not
that I  mind that  much. You  know, living  in the
moment and all that.