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Thursday, 18 August 2016

The story of Summer

I met Summer two nights ago on the thirtieth of July two thousand sixteen, we only spent a day together, but it was long enough for us to become friends. She said she didn't want me to forget her, this was because of my brain damage, it has caused some form of amnesia. I explained what it was like, she didn't want to slip away into nothing like all my other memories of yesterday do, just like my memories of today will. I didn't think to write about her while she was there, I should have...

Summer turns up into my hypnotic conscious net in the daytime, I see a vague impression of her in my imagination, she is petite, has blonde curly hair and is about 33. I say hello and we chat for a while, she seems nice. I think I make a good impression, she smiles and laughs a lot while we talk, I am my usual stupid self playing with logic and meaning, chatting away. I kind of have the habit of saying as much stupid suff as I do intelligent things I find, I'd argue if I only said intelligent things I would come across as a bit of a know it all and be annoying. Me and Summer talk a lot, I find out she is a psychiatrist, she works for the government, we chat a bit about her work, she eats breathes and basically lives the stuff. She doesn't get out enough I find myself thinking, she's all work and psychiatry. I think she has to work very long hours with her work. I know the type of people she has to work with, there won't be that many people to make friends with where she is. I think to myself it is a little sad such a nice girl being 'all work' like this. I start to feel I get a little beneath the 'work side' of Summer, I know not to trust people from government but I think I get benieth the government side of her. She has a warm aura about her, she is bright and reminds me of summer, I state this to her and Say 'I think I will call you summer'. So her shrink name becomes Summer. She seems to like her shrink name. She has a deep interest in psychiatry I find, she doesn't probe me for what I know I note, she seems genuine. I jokingly say to her about her psychiatry; it seems more like her religion than her profession, she smiles at my remark. We chat about all sorts as the hours pass, I find it hard to remember many specifics, you kind of get that when you talk about so much. I read her some of my poems in the evening as the day goes on, she seems to really like them, she states this. She programs them into her mind as my shrinks can do so she can burn them into her memory and hear them again as I read them for her. I read her 'in and out', 'a dark world and 'your spectrum'. I know these ones off by heart.

decide while we talk away the hours that I want to be friends with Summer, she makes a good impression. She could use a friend like me as well, I kind of mix a social life in with my work, I have great fun doing my work so it's the best of both worlds, I'd like to be friends with Summer and share this part of me. She tells me she doesn't usually get on with people like she does me, I think this is sweet. I play with words a bit with her as we speak, I must admit I do use some of my hacking skills to dance round her with my logic a little. Psychiatrists seem to like my jousting like this I've found, it often makes them grin; I like to play with my logic and meaning, meaning seeming, just playing, that kind thing. I say something along these lines and smile at her. Us Thetas like to play with language when we're in good moods, I do at least.  She seems sympathetic to me I am to find, to what I've been through, I think this is sweet, I don't often get this. We chat away the rest of the evening.

It gets late, this is when I explain about my memory, my amnesia from the brain damage; how I forget just about everything about what happened yesterday. I explain by tomorrow most of my memories of today will be gone. She tells me she doesn't want me to forget her... This the word bitter sweet? There should be a name for this emotion I feel when she says this but if there is one I don't know it. It is a sweet and a nice feeling but at the same time it's an extremely sad feeling. She comes up with an idea... She says we should find a picture, to help me remember, a tag in my memory. I agree, I go get my phone and go online. I type in 'summer girl picture', we look through the pictures that come up together, for something to tag into my memory, so I wont forget her. We look, she keeps suggesting pictures of the prettiest girls I note, I get the distinct impression she is very pretty. We find a nice picture eventually, one to remind me of her. I have my picture of her. I actually do physically try to remember her, I know my memories will slip away by the time I wake up, I concentrate on remembering.

It gets very late, I start to get tired, I tell her she should stay for another day, so we can chat and get to know each other more, I need all the friends I can get really, and I've found I've really enjoyed her company today. I look forward to seeing her in the morning. If she doesn't laugh much like I get the impression of I'll be happy to juggle with my logic for her for one more day, we would make good friends. I climb into bed and curl up, I go to sleep chatting away with her. She uses a hypnotic technique on me that feels nice in my tummy, I like it, it helps me nod off. I drift of into my sleep, with Summber beside me...

I awake, it is morning, I come around, I start to chat away with who's in my conscious net when I come round fully, MI6 shrinks are in my conscious net now, a bit of time passes. I carry on my day not remembering any of the night before, it has all gone, nothing come to mind about yesterday..,I don't remember anything of Summer. A day passes.

It's now a few hours ago from when I write this, I am looking on my phone, I come across a picture of a girl that is a little unfamiliar to me, memories come back to me, it's my picture of Summer, it reminds me of her. I search my memories, I remember she didn't want me to forget her. I start to write what I can remember of her down. I jot down my notes on my blog editing page for safe keeping and so I can remember what date it is and keep a permenent log. More memories come to mind as I write, my notes soon turn more like one of my short stories. I'm smiling to myself; her idea worked. I've held on to a bit. I'm thinking about her, I don't know if I'll ever see Summer again, but I do at least remember some of the time we spent together, I didn't forget her, I've held on to a bit, I remember.

So Summer left my conscious net, but she didn't quite slip out of my memory like everything else from yesterday does. She left someting with me, she left me something to keep, she left me with memories, some memories to smile about in a difficult and sometimes lonely life. I remember.

Picture, summer...

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