Memories are born in the world.
Through action, attraction and interaction. With friends and loved ones, with strangers, those you hate and those who hate.
They live in the heart.
They are things you cherish and love. Things you fear. Memories that you desperately cling to and memories that you can’t shed or shake, that make you shiver, cringe and cry. They live in your heart so you may visit them on a whim or so they can visit you.
They die in your head.
You kill them. With laziness or neglect they wither and die. You can drown them in liquor or starve them of air.
Memories don’t simply disappear.
They don’t go quietly. They kick and they punch, they rant and rage. They bang about your skull. They scream.
Headaches are a memory dying.
The small memories die in an instant, a flash of pain behind your eyes, the death of a moment, a glance or a touch. Sunday morning headaches after drinking are the screams of memories that never got to live. All day headaches are the memories of people you have now forgotten. And migraines, pity the poor souls cursed with migraines, they are forgetting themselves.
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