I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I’ve watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.
Roy (Blade Runner)

I’ve been thinking about memory lately. Since I turned 40, I feel my memory is going. I don’t seem to remember things as well as I used to. This is most likely part of the process of getting old. So, today is my 40.5 half birthday; it seemed appropriate to discuss it.
My memories of the past is tainted by time. I recall classmates from elementary school. I do not remember them as children. They were not small people; they were all the same height as myself. So, in my memory, I still see them as my current height.
We are essentially our memories. And there have been times when I wish I could forget things from my past. Mostly dumb things I’ve done, but I would also include hellish periods of my life that probably still affect my self esteem. Unfortunately, the act of remembering causes a memory to hang around longer. So, when I think of something I want to forget, I am already going backwards in that mission.
But then I think of the idea of forgetting. It’s scary. If you forget something, it is gone forever. You don’t even remember that you’ve forgotten it. That would be the tragic part of alzheimer’s disease. Once I think of it that way, I don’t want to forget anything. Ever.
But there is only so much space in your brain. You have to forget to be able to remember. My internal hard drive is getting full.

‘You see,’ he explained, ‘I consider that a man’s brain is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across, so that the knowledge which might be useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things, so that he has difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in most perfect order. It is a mistake to think that that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent. Depend upon it there comes a time when for every addition of knowledge you forget something that you knew before. It is of the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out the useful ones.’
Sherlock Holmes, A Study in Scarlet