I outline projects, make todos, and most important of all, visualise the structure of the days within which I'll work. I get a narrative sense of the week past, how it compares to the story I wanted to tell, and where that narrative wants to go over the next 7 days. A highway down which compressed 4-day thoughts can stream from the past to find me here in the present.Įvery Sunday morning I take a larger dose, clearing a space in which to spend 2 hours trying to make sense of the last 168. Tomorrow when sitting down to take his own mnestic, he will think of this moment and verbally accept that bridge from the past, creating a chain throughout time built of 30-minute pockets of daily space-taking. To finish, I try to capture in time who I feel I am now, and verbally extend a bridge to my future self. With my priorities freshly re-downloaded into my brain, I plan my day, set intentions, and make a todo list. I read the remaining 8 lines from past selves who had access to a wealth of space, reminding me of how I want live. It's at this stage I check my calendar to confirm the week's mnestics are all lined up, coming to me free and clear down the river of time.

I try to recall the feeling I had sitting in that cabin, that 'Space' is something both vital and fragile, and while I have it, I need to use it to ensure I don't lose it. I read the second line, still a word at a time:Ī routine of self perpetuating, undistracted time to think is necessary to respond well to being alive. The feeling of recalling something existentially important that needs sustained action over years. I read it one word at a time, and try to recapture that sense of dread. Write to yourself something which will make you remember. It's okay to forget some things, because we are mortal and finite. The contents of mnestic.txt have changed over time, but the quote at the top is always the same: I hit 'ctrl+m' to pull up my desktop forever dedicated to 'mnestic.txt' and my calendar. It also helps to turn interruptions like 'do you have a second?', into 'Jarred, why are you eating a leaf?'.

This looks odd if I happen to be in a cafe, but serves to remind me I was doing something important if I get distracted. To do this, I sit with my laptop and place a leaf between my lips. In the course of such adventures, they find it necessary to imbibe 'mnestics' (the opposite of an amnesiac), drugs for remembering.Įvery morning since I left that cabin, I wake up having to remember only one thing. In the web series 'There is No Antimemetics Division' our heroes must fight a great evil, monsters that make you forget they exist.

Antimemetics division book