Last night i’m just about to sleep, eyes closed,
body relaxed,
blanket arranged perfectly,when my brain suddenly taps me on the shoulder and says, “Hey… remember that awkward thing you did years ago?”
And I’m like, “No. We agreed to forget that.”
But my brain insists. It zooms in with full HD clarity. The tone of my voice. The way I stood. The exact moment I thought I was being cool but absolutely was not. Suddenly my heart is racing like I’m about to be arrested for a crime called Secondhand Embarrassment Against Myself.
Why does the brain do this? All day it forgets important things like passwords, names, and where I kept my charger. But at night? Oh, at night it becomes a professional historian. It opens a dusty mental cabinet labeled “Things You Wish You Could Time-Travel to Stop” and says, “Let’s review.”
I even try to negotiate.
“Brain, that was years ago.”
Brain replies, “Yes… but what if they still remember?”
Remember? That person probably forgot my name five minutes after it happened. But no—here I am, rolling in bed, apologizing to the ceiling for something nobody else remembers.
The funniest part? I suddenly feel the urge to explain myself. To no one. In the dark. At 2 a.m. I’m whispering, “Okay, but in my defense…” like the walls are judging me.
Eventually I fall asleep, only to wake up the next morning pretending I’m confident and normal,while my brain quietly files the incident back into storage, ready to replay it again when I least expect it.
Honestly, the brain is not a memory bank.
It’s a comedy club that only performs at night—and I’m always the main joke. 😄
[Image generated by chatgpt]
