I never paid much attention to my childhood moments after I grew up. It never really caught my attention as a task that needed to be completed.
I felt the past was past, and I had to move on.
You know what's a worse feeling than not caring about your childhood memories? Not caring because you cannot recall them, you cannot remember them.
And they're gone, or non-existent; I suppose it differs from whichever point of view you'd like to look at.
I was going through some photo albums recently, and whenever I look at photo albums, I immediately think something is going to trigger a response in my brain and remind me of that moment frozen in the photo.
At least, that used to be the case. It is now no longer.
I haven't written a serious piece in a while, but I also have not written anything in a week, so forgive me if I am a bit rusty.
I want to dedicate this blog page specifically for Memory/Memories and how they relate to me, how they work with me, and well, how terrible of a memory I have.
So here goes.
One specific photo that caught my attention was that of my late dog, standing waiting for my uncle at a beach setting.
I could not for the life of me make right of this photo; it sickened me, it made me feel like it was forged. I could not remember that memory. I could not reach into my head and bring out a slideshow of what had happened that specific day.
I did not know why.
It felt fake. It felt unreal.
Almost like I was dreaming, except I wasn't. I wasn't even in the photo.
I have tried to recall it, but could not, so I just flipped the page and continued looking.
Ever since I was little my memory has never been the greatest. Mother sometimes calls me the "space cadet" as I tend to forget everything she tells me as soon as she tells me.
However, I've always tried my best to recall moments, to a fail.
I have also always been amazed by how memory works. How a single key of music can spark one; a kiss, or even a small petal of a rose breaking and getting blown in the air.
I, however, have never been able to understand my memory, or how it works, or if it works at all.
Example with the above scenario.
The event had happened, but it had been completely erased from my mind.
Why?
I felt the past was past, and I had to move on.
You know what's a worse feeling than not caring about your childhood memories? Not caring because you cannot recall them, you cannot remember them.
And they're gone, or non-existent; I suppose it differs from whichever point of view you'd like to look at.
I was going through some photo albums recently, and whenever I look at photo albums, I immediately think something is going to trigger a response in my brain and remind me of that moment frozen in the photo.
At least, that used to be the case. It is now no longer.
I haven't written a serious piece in a while, but I also have not written anything in a week, so forgive me if I am a bit rusty.
I want to dedicate this blog page specifically for Memory/Memories and how they relate to me, how they work with me, and well, how terrible of a memory I have.
So here goes.
One specific photo that caught my attention was that of my late dog, standing waiting for my uncle at a beach setting.
I could not for the life of me make right of this photo; it sickened me, it made me feel like it was forged. I could not remember that memory. I could not reach into my head and bring out a slideshow of what had happened that specific day.
I did not know why.
It felt fake. It felt unreal.
Almost like I was dreaming, except I wasn't. I wasn't even in the photo.
I have tried to recall it, but could not, so I just flipped the page and continued looking.
Ever since I was little my memory has never been the greatest. Mother sometimes calls me the "space cadet" as I tend to forget everything she tells me as soon as she tells me.
However, I've always tried my best to recall moments, to a fail.
I have also always been amazed by how memory works. How a single key of music can spark one; a kiss, or even a small petal of a rose breaking and getting blown in the air.
I, however, have never been able to understand my memory, or how it works, or if it works at all.
Example with the above scenario.
The event had happened, but it had been completely erased from my mind.
Why?
RSS Feed
