It's very hot today, and as I was driving to my mates to use my PC online and thus be able to do some work. I felt the warm breeze drifting through the open window and at that instant I remembered laying on the seat of my dad’s old boat as we headed off on an adventure to the east hills, which is a small island like bit out off the coast of wells, well its technically connected but it’s not possible to get there by foot, at high tide.
While thinking about this I reached a junction, I stopped as usual, but then the dense heat caught me and sparked another memory, sitting in my parents car at what was back then milden hall air show, my father is obsessed with airplanes and probably wanted to be a pilot.
I'm starting to get memories back from smells or temperatures, it's a very clever system indeed, but this more than ever strengthens my opinion that, like Freud thinks, the memory is etched and never lost, just harder to find, Tonight I'm going to read "writings on the mystic pad" which is an essay by Freud explaining this.
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