Sto­ries, in the retelling, become con­se­crated to that cir­cum­stance. Inso­far as that cir­cum­stance is allowed to per­sist (‘cir­cum­stance’ itself being a broadly-defined con­cept of con­text), the story (inti­macy excepted) may be retold to oth­ers. But it is not any­thing about the story itself. The most benign of ideas may, in dis­course, become of great sig­nif­i­cance — this sig­nif­i­cance stems not from the retelling; rather, the process of retelling is used to attach per­sonal mean­ing that the mediocre might become magnificent.

A row of absurdly painted faces turn.

This has two links: of the con­text of dis­course, and of the geog­ra­phy of events related. I do not relate the events here, but after writ­ing this per­haps I may [wish to]. Words evoke mem­o­ries, basi­cally. The fas­ci­nat­ing thing is not just that, but rather the abil­ity of words evok­ing mem­o­ries to evoke mem­o­ries (that is, the words, not the mem­o­ries, were the cat­a­lyst for other mem­o­ries). Way to go tak­ing a sim­ple con­cept and mak­ing it complex!

The point is, the mind is awe­some yet simul­ta­ne­ously twisted…