1997 ClairE I_miss_you all_of_a_sudden, and I don't even know why. 011212 ... oren In 1997: I didn't need glasses. I didn't have a pacemaker. My hearing was better. My back didn't require surgery. I didn't have Neurocardiogenic Syncope. ~ I was lonely. I was searching for someone. It would still be another year before I'd meet you. ~ 1997 sucked, really. Although my body is falling apart now, my soul has been renewed. Having you in my life has made all the difference. 011213 ... endless desire I am probably the most nostalgic bastard you'll ever meet, which is why I'll never stop coming back to the blue and why I'll always be a hoarder no matter how hard I try and why I'll never throw away my study notes from high school US history. I'm addicted to the past, because I have a very flawed memory in which the things that came before seem very alluring. My memory washes over all heartache, discomfort, and sadness. Subsequently, I love reliving different times of my life because I have a strange way of romanticizing even my most unhappy moments. And I often feel a profound loss in the present for all the past that keeps rushing away from me, growing ever further in the distance. I only ever fear the future when I think of all the past I will have lost, and how quickly it seems I will lose it all. One upside to my rose_colored_glasses is that I'm terrible at holding grudges, and can only successfully hold them at the insistence of someone more vengeful than myself. I forgive almost instantly, and never manage to stay angry more than an hour. It's actually very annoying at times because I assure myself I will be angry, for a prolonged time, because whatever injustice this person has inflicted deserves long-term anger. And maybe it's that I hate conflict or I'm just incredibly drawn to remember happier memories, but it usually dissipate Oh So Much Faster than I intended. Justin maintains that I simply only remember the things which just happened. So if things are going well, I make the sweeping generalization that life/relationships/ambitions have always gone well, and when things are going poorly, I do the same. And maybe I have a gold fish memory, because I always like the last book or film I read the best. You know, I just killed a goldfish. Right now, only 10 minutes ago I realized I killed a goldfish. I can't even say the goldfish died of natural causes. I let that water eutrophy knowing full well that some gentler species would not be able to handle the changing conditions. I just didn't want to stick my hand in that warm, slimy water to remove the dying plant life. And now, belly up goes the goldfish. In 1997, I was a child. And an all-together happy and miserable child at the same time, as many of us are. I have so many brilliant memories from my childhood of the innocent, wonderful things children do. I was adventurous and stubborn and bossy and excitable. But I was also painfully self-conscious and hiding terrible secrets that would one day eat me alive, if only for a time. But I still miss ever year of my life, and wish I could see some things again. At the end of a chemistry course I took last year, the professor took a moment to mention that we should stop and notice who is around us. That these same people will never be in room all together ever again. Stuff like that just breaks my heart a little, even though I wasn't terribly fond of anyone in that class. But it's just, I hate losing situations. I hate moving out of old apartments. I miss that old drive to work or the sandwich shop guy I used to chat with in the mornings. Don't get me wrong -- I do like change. I always WANT to move out of my old apartment because it feels stagnate and stale and uninspired after a few years. I just want to experience everything a few times over, whenever I please. I want to go back to when I first met him, when we first fucked in the room next door, and he threw me against the bed and licked the spine of my back and there was this electricity that rang in my ears and silenced the entire world. I want to go back to those crashing waves after the death and before the funeral where we were drowning with grief, and the waves grew and grew and I didn't know about the sting rays yet so we just rode them back and forth and filled our heads with so much salt water. I want to go back to that day when we found the panel of a bus stuck to a light pole. And remember when we drove all over? Just all the time. For no reason. And remember when we walked down that moonlit ruins at one in the morning, trying to find the path to the resort and it ended up being the most amazing part of our entire trip. I hold so many pieces inside of me. They are so full and beautiful and tragic and difficult. And maybe I could be so much more than what I am, but what more can I ask for than a life I'd live all over again? Except 2009. Maybe I'll just let that one go. 130110 ... qi wen 香港回归 130111 what's it to you? who go blather from