Doorways Are Portals That Wipe Your Memory

The Doorway Conspiracy - And I Have Evidence

I’ll walk into a room, forget why I’m there, and just stand silently like I’ve been reset.

It happens multiple times a day.

I’ll be in the kitchen with a clear mission…get the thing, bring it back…and then the moment I cross the threshold, my brain dumps all active memory like a computer clearing its cache.

I stand there. Blinking. Scanning the room for clues.

Why am I here? What was I doing? Who even am I?

Eventually, I give up and walk back to where I started.

And the second I cross back through that doorway…boom…I remember.

The charger. I needed the damn phone charger.

This isn’t forgetfulness. This is something else.

I’ve come to the conclusion….doorways are portals.

And they’re wiping my memory.

I don’t know who designed this system or why, but it’s clearly intentional. Every threshold I cross is a cognitive reset point.

Some are worse than others.

The bathroom door barely touches me…I can remember why I went in about 40% of the time.

But the bedroom door?

That one’s aggressive. I’ve walked in there and forgotten my own name.

I’ve started developing countermeasures.

Strategy One: Narration. I say my objective out loud as I walk. “Getting the scissors. Getting the scissors. Getting the scissors.” It works maybe half the time. The other half, I arrive in the room still chanting “getting the scissors” with no idea why I want them.

Strategy Two: The Breadcrumb Method. I leave a trail of objects behind me, keys, a pen, a mug, so I can retrace my steps and jog my memory. This has turned my flat into an archaeological site.

There are artifacts everywhere.

Future generations will study them and conclude I was either a lunatic or conducting some kind of ritual.

Strategy Three: Don’t Use Doors. I’ve tried just... not walking through doorways.

Staying in one room all day.

Surprisingly effective! But as I write this I haven’t eaten in five hours because the kitchen is on the other side of a portal I refuse to cross.

I mentioned this to a friend. He laughed and said it happens to everyone.

That’s exactly what someone would say if they were also affected but in denial.

I think we’ve all just normalised it.

We walk through doorways, lose entire thoughts, and shrug it off as “getting older” or “being a scatter brain.”

No one’s asking the important questions. Like: Why doorways specifically? Why not windows? Or chairs?

What is it about a rectangular opening in a wall that triggers a full cognitive reboot?

I’ve started paying attention to other people. Watching them cross thresholds. And I’ve noticed something.

They pause.

Just for a second. A tiny hesitation right after they walk into a room.

They’ll look around, confused, like they’ve just arrived somewhere unexpected. Then they’ll either remember why they’re there or…more often…just leave and pretend it didn’t happen.

We’re all victims. We just don’t talk about it.

I’ve been documenting my experiences.

I have a running list of the worst offending doorways in my apartment:

1. Bedroom door – Memory wipe rate: 90%. Utterly ruthless.

2. Bathroom door – Memory wipe rate: 40%. Mostly merciful.

3. Front door – Memory wipe rate: 65%. I’ve left the house three times this week with suddenly no idea where I was going.

I don’t know what the endgame is here.

Maybe doorways are part of some grand experiment.

Maybe they’re protecting us from knowing too much. Maybe they’re just broken and no one’s bothered to fix them.

All I know is this: I walked into the kitchen ten minutes ago to get something.

I’m still standing here.

I have no idea what it was.

But I’m not leaving until I figure it out. I refuse to let the portals win.

Actually, wait……why am I here?