We’ve all done or said things we wish we could forget. Maybe you’ve stumbled over your words in front of a room full of people, or embarrassed yourself in front of your crush. Then there are the heavier moments the ones seared so deeply into your memory that they alter your perspective forever. Sometimes you don’t even realize how monumental those moments are until much later.
For me, a few of those “perspective-shifting moments” have come through romance. Amnesia was inspired by one of those shifts.
When I think about men and their actions, their words, or sometimes their silence it’s sobering. In my case, it cancels out why I even liked them in the first place. A couple of my most sting-worthy moments have been delivered over text or FaceTime, from ex-boyfriends to gray-area situationships. Honestly, I would’ve preferred if those words had been said to my face. At least then I wouldn’t have the option to reread them over and over, hoping they might somehow lose their sharp edge.
But the truth is, they are never dull. And sometimes I even force myself to keep rereading, as a reminder: this is what they did. I’ve saved screenshots in my Notes app for exactly that reason so when I catch myself reminiscing, I can remind myself of the salt in the wound.
The frustrating part? I only ever think of the perfect comeback months later. This song was written in its entirety almost two years ago, in reflection, and has been a demo I’ve replayed time and time again. Processing for me takes time, it's just how I work. Eventually, after sitting with the hurt and replaying it enough times, it starts to make sense. That’s usually when melodies come. I’ll sit at my MIDI keyboard, stumble upon some chords, loop them in Logic, and begin writing.
Some songs never see the light of day. But Amnesia felt different it’s a moment, a feeling I think everyone has experienced (or will) at least once in their life. To me, it’s like internal whiplash. Not just because of how triggering those moments can be, but because of how often the people who caused them act like nothing ever happened.
It could be the ex who treated you terribly and then casually suggests staying friends. Or the childhood bully who sparked an insecurity that’s haunted you for years, but now smiles at you like they never said a word. Or even an old friend who suddenly reappears in your life as if you never stopped talking.
Those are the moments that make you pause and think: what the fuck?
This song is three things in one: a response, a reminder, and a warning, a response to people of the past, a reminder to myself in the present, and a warning to anyone who chooses to approach. When I write a song, that’s where I tend to be my most honest and let certain shades of my personality slip through.
One of the most damaging weapons we all have at our fingertips is our words. I’m guilty, too, of trying to find the deepest cuts, sometimes intentionally, sometimes in self-defense. And in case you were wondering, I think actions and words are equally loud. Sometimes, silence is even louder.