Thursday, April 19, 2012

Reminiscing

Better late than never...

This post isn't really about reminiscing... well maybe it is.. aah fuck it...

How old is old enough to indulge in a memoir? Well as soon as you do, I guess it means that you're done with this life at least. Maybe that's why people don't like thinking too much about their pasts. But it creeps in now and then, just to remind you of who you are, or rather who you were and what you have come to be. You know how there are certain memories that really stick out in your mind? Significant or completely trivial, they stick out like really pokey thorns in your thoughts. I have a few that I think about almost daily. Somehow most of them are regretful memories, but sometimes they are just perfect moments that you wish you could live through again. I like memories. Sentimentalness (yes that's not a word) is underrated.

There's a general progression, that as you grow older, you begin to speak less and less. You begin reflecting rather than acting, until one day, all you have is your reflection, and nothing left to say. I think that's why the stereotypical spiritually enlightened have very little to say, because they are too preoccupied with their thoughts. Maybe the experiences that we go through in life are just illustrious metaphors for some deeper understanding of the divine. That would be nice I guess.

So I guess that there are no good experiences or bad experiences... just experiences that are personally tailored to deliver a subliminal message of understanding. Or maybe I've just got it all wrong and everyone isn't really thinking about worldly questions, but rather procrastinating on their Facebook feeds. There used to be a time when I wouldn't think twice about what I was doing and why I was doing it. If I was on the tennis court, it was because I was on the tennis court. Not because I was competitive, or I wanted to be a better tennis player. It was just because I was there. I don't think I remember a single trip from my Golden Sands 2 building down to the courts, but somehow, after school, I would magically find myself there. There was no decision to be made.

As I grew a little more, there were more decisions to be made. Should I go out, should I not. Should I sleep or stay awake. Should I play the drums or the guitar. Should I pick up the phone. I think circumstances make the setting a lot more interesting. As children we are not concerned about one less day to live, or an aimless life, and we end up experiencing a lot more. And as we go through the immensely complicated tutorial of the burdens and responsibilities of this urban system, we become hesitant to experience. Our lives become streamlined and aimed in a direction.

To be honest... I don't really know where this is going... but at least I'm writing... maybe to stop thinking, and start creating memories instead of reminiscing. So here is to forgetting direction and order. Here's to chaos and anarchy and to have one more good memory to make.

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