Category Archives: circle


Time can become meaningless once you realize that while it moves forward your life moves in a circle, always repeating events, but never fully recapturing what once was. What is now is always a simulacrum of the past. Even your memories will reflect this when you realize you can’t quite remember – not exactly, and not enough to distinguish between the past and present.

Your memories changes with time. You are always remembering the same event, but as time shifts so does the memory. How is that possible? How can an event, which has happened already, change? It doesn’t, but it does. The event, the physical manifestation of what occurred is fixed. Your memory however, dependent upon your interpretation of the event, changes. At different points in time the significance of an isolated moment, a memory, shifts, and that is what you remember. It is your interpretation of that moment that gives it meaning, and as your perspective changes, the moment becomes redefined.

What happens when multiple people remember the same event? Even when they agree on the actions that occurred, they will still see it differently. They each viewed it from a different angle. Does this mean that each perspective becomes a different fragment of the same event, or that the event itself becomes replicated to accommodate multiple facets?

And what happens when a memory belongs to only one person, and they can no longer remember? As they completely forget, if no one else witnessed or knew about the event, does that somehow void the action from the universe? This is kind of a different take on the “if a tree falls but no one hears it” question, except I am not questioning whether the tree made a noise when it fell. I want to know if the tree fell at all.

A lady in her kitchen moves a kettle from the counter onto a shelf, an event so un-noteworthy (like so many others) that she never tells anyone of it (why would she?). One day she dies, thus the memory absolutely no longer exists, with her, or anyone else. Did the kettle ever move?

You get older, but that doesn’t mean time travels in only one direction; as the days pass you find it is Monday again, December again, and always again. It all is as it once was, except slightly off. And all of the memories you accumulate play in a loop on repeat serving as the soundtrack while you mime out your life, striking a different pose each time the same song comes on as if you have never heard it before because each time it sounds so different you cannot recognize it. Years have passed, and you have come full circle, ready for another round.


A Perfect Circle

I was reading one of the books I bought this weekend, a work discussing happiness within relationships. And I realized what my problem is – the thing that is so wrong with me which makes me undesirable. Granted this is work of fiction, the woman describes marriage in terms of finding her other half.

It is not so much that I have never found my other half, but I have never actually sought it out, or had any desire for it. I think that is what drives men away. They are initially attracted to me, get to know me and realize I don’t have some sort of compulsion towards meshing. And then they leave.

I don’t fall in love and develop strange obsessions for their interests. I catalog them, keep in mind their likes and dislikes for future reference, but don’t take them on as my own. I am not referring to things we have in common, because that is kind of a prerequisite for any relationship to even get started, but I mean the little things, the personal interests that diverge. I have always thought of these interests as things to be acknowledge, but not necessarily adopted. Maybe that is my problem, I have never looked for a man as a missing puzzle piece, nor did I want to be his.

I have always been perfectly fine with having a man watch me dance (albeit not well) to Elton John without ever understanding why I am in love with Tiny Dancer. I just am.

Of course I spent the better part of my twenties obsessed with marriage and creating the perfect one, but at no point was I considering it as a way of finding my other self. Aside from things I already had in common with a man, or things to which he would introduce me and I actually took pleasure in, the idea of forming myself to his interests seemed wrong (says the single woman with four cats… a.k.a relationship guru extraordinaire… and perhaps cat whisperer).

Reading this book I am beginning to understand how unnatural I must seem. I see other women devoted to interests they never even knew they had, absolutely fascinated by whatever their men like. Then I see other women who don’t develop these interests genuinely, but they know how to keep a man, so they adamantly testify to loving his interests. I have never been good at that either.

Am I missing a gene? Wasn’t I supposed to be born with this innate desire to form a perfect circle with someone? Maybe I just need to be beaten around the edges.