Losing My Memory...Or...Wha..???

I never thought it would come down to this, but it has. I can't seem to remember a thing anymore. Simple things like: "Where's my glasses?" or "Did I lock my car?" how about: "Did I lock the door to my apartment?!" Okay, it happens to everyone, right? But sheesh... It scares the hell out of me. Senility? At my age? C'mon. Maybe it's too much stress...life is more stressful these days. Or maybe it's too much sugar in the diet... I hear sugar can cause all sorts of havoc with the brain... I got a brain book...but I haven't had the heart to open it yet... In fact, I can't remember where the hell I put the darn thing... Okay... I have the answer. Hold on to your hats... memory loss isn't really senility setting in. No. It's really living in the subconscious. See? That's sounds better already. Yes! And it explains why I didn't forget things in my younger days. I didn't know how to travel to my subconscious. What I'm saying is... I'm so much on automatic pilot now. I've done these stupid little things over and over and over again... Now... I don't think about doing them... I just do them... and I'm a walking zombie. New actions I take I can remember like clock work. But zipping up my fly? Who knows if I did that this morning... (checking) Yes!!! Thank god! It's good to live in the subconscious. Artists need to go there for long periods of time. I write my best in the subconscious. I pray I can go there. It's a wonderful place to be. The trick is to shut out any anguish and fear as you go, or the mind will pop you right back to the conscious. And who wants to be there? Remember those damn relaxation exercises in acting class?

Edgar Cayce (pictured above) used to get into the subconscious of folks he was doing readings for. It can be done. You just have to clear everything else out. Clear out thoughts I mean. And become a walking zombie. So Cayce would fall into sleep (the subconscious) and do this amazing reading...wake up... and not remember a thing. See? Like him, I'm just living more and more in the subconscious. Not a bad place. I mean really, I've gotten into my car...turned the key... traveled 150 miles, turned the key off and said, "How the hell did I get here?" Cars, Showers, Fixing the plumbing, Gardening... all good ways to zone out into zombie land. Music... another one. "Hey, how'd those roses get here?" Anyway. Who wants to be conscious anyway? Not I. C'mon, I'll meet you in the subconscious. Let's make it a date.