post the hundred-thirty-ninth, 2013

in case you didn't notice, this isn't exactly a biographical blog. it's not a diary, i mean. it's not like i haven't done the diary thing, because i have, but after a while, you're down to writing the same thing day after day or else you're culling the wire for inputs. if something exciting happens, if i have a story to tell, you will be the first to know; if you want to see dailies, subscribe elsewhere.

now, what being said, the other day i DID think of something cool to tell you, and i had it planned down to the analogy, down to the _____:_____::_____:_____. it was way solid, all out, off the hook, to the limit. "what happened?" say you. well, i forgot, didn't i? i imagined the analogy whilst crossing the car park to my office door, and i remember everything about the moment... well, everything except the content. i know the structure was an analogy. i know the location was the car park and i was walking across. i think the thing had to do with publishing or books maybe, but that's all i can come up with, and even that doesn't feel quite right.

how can a brain do that? remember everything except the key facts, i mean. why did i retain what i retained and throw away the rest, when it was the very rest i truly wished to retain?

mystery:brain::_____:bareyellowbulb

the brain's a mystery, for certain. what is this place, then?