I watched Memento (Latin for "remember") last night and this afternoon. It's messed up my mind. It's a guy who only has short term memory since his wife's death. He pursues her murderer by way of tatoos, notes, and polaroid pictures he takes of things and writes on.
The movie ingeniously gets you into his perspective by starting from the end and gradually moving backwards. You see a scene, then you see the scene before that scene, until you reach certain aha moments.
But it's messed my mind up. I just wrote some notes to myself on a chapter of the philosophy book I'm writing, knowing that I'll forget it if I don't put it there now. My psyche is disjointed enough already... it's why I blog so much... little snapshots of my psyche for as long as I can hold attention... But who am I--what's the glue that holds these moments together, that constitutes any of us as a whole person?
Oh well, maybe I'm just having some sort of psychotic break. No biggie... it happens.