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Monday, May 9, 2011

Dwelling on Moments

You always want to remember a day the way that it actually happened, but the truth is that you can't.  Those moments in time are what makes a memory become, what I refer to as, a meta-fiction.  It's the closest to the truth that I can remember.  What's special about meta-fiction is the relationship between creator and created, reality and fantasy, and fiction and truth in which all are all open to exposition.  This makes self-reflection quite difficult though. 
Somebody told me that it's the moments, small increments of time, that fill up the pages of my autobiography.  And I agree; however my interpretation of what happened in those moments might differ from the actualities of those moments and my interpretation of the affects of those moments might differ from future parallel moments.  And what I believed to happen at that moment is not going to be what I remember and capture on the written page.  Thus in turn, my autobiography will become meta-fiction instead a work of non fiction. 
With that said, why does my autobiography have to be non fiction, do you think Ann Frank's Diary was an entirely true account of her moments?  No, it was based on her thoughts about something that happened earlier that day, even five minutes before; it was not written right then and there in the moment.
So I will continue to write my pages based on the moments I remember, without dwelling on the minutia and the distinction between true and false, hopes and facts, me and the meta-fictional character me.

What's the lesson here: A cluster of moments make bigger moments.  And those bigger moments are what makes my story.  My story is me.  Don't dwell on being myself.

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