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Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul

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Mnemonic- The Remembrall

remembrall

Mnemonic

When Neville Longbottom’s remembrall turned red, he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was he was forgetting.  After extensive research in this matter (thank you, google and Harry Potter fans), apparently he wasn’t wearing his robes.  We all suffer with our memories and try to find ways to remember important matters in our lives.  People write notes in their planners, save voice notes in their smart phones, or ask someone to remind them.

Back in the old days, when we weren’t glued to our phones and weren’t able to access the internet all the time, school teachers needed to make things interesting for us to remember things so they introduced us to mnemonics.  One of the most memorable one for me is related to the order of planets: My very easy method just set up nine planets.  How applicable.

Along with some ridiculous song lyrics I can’t forget, the planet mnemonic was placed comfortably in the middle of my memory.  Whenever I hear about a planet, I remember my very easy method and feel so smart, thinking that I got my money’s worth of education.

Then someone decided Pluto isn’t a planet.  WHAT???  What do you mean Pluto isn’t a planet?  All of a sudden Pluto’s just not good enough to be part of the planets?  What is it, then, a tree?  I thought it was a joke, something I overheard and wasn’t certain of its source.  Then I thought it must be someone scientists were still debating about, that they will come around and consider it a planet again.  Lo and behold, they didn’t.  Poor Pluto.

A rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet.

Well, I guess my very easy method just set up nine... nothings.

pluto

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Emptiness

Source: Writing Prompt #308

 

depression-1-1

It was just an urge that he’d acted on, he’d punched the window and now he was standing in a pool of shards.  He was looking for any other feeling besides the feeling of emptiness that has consumed him for  years now.  This was not a good day for him; he had better days when he felt like he had some control over his life.  But today was different, today was just black.

He woke up this morning with emptiness around him.  The feeling of grief consuming him even though he didn’t lose any loved one.  The pit of his stomach seemed so heavy, his heart felt burdened, and his breathing stressed.  All these feelings even though he had a good night sleep.  He felt afraid, no, he felt very afraid to get out of bed.  He felt the ground was filled with demons, red hot fire burning around the sanctuary of his bed.  He tried to pull the covers over himself and felt weaker.  His anxiety started and he was soon out breath.  He didn’t know whether to leave his bed and die or stay in and die as well.

It was a bad day.  He pulled himself out of bed and still felt the emptiness and fear.  He felt alone, scared, and lost.  He was floating in the abyss and can see himself walk across the room, hunched down, and sad.  He wanted to shake himself into feeling something, anything, and didn’t know what to do.  He floated down to his body, looked straight into his dark eyes and saw nothing.  He peered down into the shell of his body and saw no soul anymore.  A body consumed by nothingness: no hope, no dreams, no nothing.  He looked and found nothing.

And he walked to the window, thinking that maybe the sunny day would lift his spirits. Huh, what spirit?  There’s nothing there.  It was gone, he was gone.  He hoped the sun would work.  On the way, he turned on the music and played one of his favorite songs so maybe, just maybe, something would flicker in the shadows.  But nothing flickered.  He reached the window and punched… but felt nothing except his depression.

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