firstly... every night i take the galoot, aka bailey, on a super long walk. it's epic! i write stories in my head, as lame as it sounds. my head is where thousands of incomplete stories dwell.
but every night, on these walks, there is a smell i can't quite describe. it wraps its way into my nostrils and dances past olfactories and roots its sultry self around my memories. i have no idea what the smell means to me, where i've smelled it, if ever i have before. it brings to mind no person or place of significance... and yet that smell... fells like... home. it's so sickly sweet and luxuriant that i just want to bathe in it.
this got me wondering... whether or not smells imprint on our brains without any particular recognition at the time. i'm sure you know what i mean. there are times in my life when a certain smell, or infact any sensory experience, can be pin pointed to a certain time in my life. a lover, a club, an adventure. but what if this smell was a minor event in my life but a major turning point? what if this smell was there when i kissed my ex for the first time? and if it hadn't been, would i have melted so freely and willingly into his tight fold? did the brilliance of the smell effect the levels of certain chemicals in my brain at the time?
perhaps if i carry a vile of it with me at all times i'll be able to attract a more savory type of man. bla bla i know.
for future referal purposes: this is bailey <3
secondly... i used to walk thru the red light district of amsterdam, alone, at night, at the tender age of 15. why is it now the case that i get the heeby jeebies from vacant houses around the corner?
is my perception bleached?!