Many things have been happening to me in the past few weeks, and I am always tempted to write about them when the storm blows over, but I never get the chance to, since another gust of wind likes to follow each natural disaster.
It's been highs and lows all over the place for me as of late, and it is quite unfortunate that I feel a burst of either creativeness or a need for expression particularly during the lows. Good news however: today, no matter how much crap I've got going on, I shall remain focused on the better things that the tide has brought in.
Lol, I haven't sounded this cheery in ages. You may make your own conclusions why I suppose.
Anyway, have you ever just revisted a place, which triggered you to revisit a whole memory, as if it had just happened several minutes before? Not just a vague memory with a few images and a few sentences of conversation here and there, but a whole experience as if you were watching your life as a movie with digital surround sound. It was so bizarre. I half expected the people starring in that memory to walk through the door and finish it all off. Talk about flashback.
It's amazing what the human brain will actually store. It is even more amazing how desperately we as humans cling on to our memories. We hold on to the memory of certain things that have happened to us as if nothing else could be more important in the world, the egocentric beings that we are. It has been said that we all view ourselves as the centre of our own universe.
For a dimension so intangible as Time, the only proof that time has passed is our memory. The only proof that we led any kind of life in that time, is our memory; a series of electric pulses our brain can recreate to conjure up old images and soundfiles and smells.
No matter what you do in life, it seems as if the only thing that makes it truly worthwhile is our personal record of things that happened. Our memories make us the person who we think we are, without certain recollections of events that occured in the past, we have no gauge of where we want to go if we don't already know where we've been.
And so, I guess I am thankful for all the memories I have made lately. For all the smiles and frowns, all the tears (maybe less so) and the laughter, and for the friends I have made, and unmade, in unexpected places, for making life somewhat eventful.
It's been highs and lows all over the place for me as of late, and it is quite unfortunate that I feel a burst of either creativeness or a need for expression particularly during the lows. Good news however: today, no matter how much crap I've got going on, I shall remain focused on the better things that the tide has brought in.
Lol, I haven't sounded this cheery in ages. You may make your own conclusions why I suppose.
Anyway, have you ever just revisted a place, which triggered you to revisit a whole memory, as if it had just happened several minutes before? Not just a vague memory with a few images and a few sentences of conversation here and there, but a whole experience as if you were watching your life as a movie with digital surround sound. It was so bizarre. I half expected the people starring in that memory to walk through the door and finish it all off. Talk about flashback.
It's amazing what the human brain will actually store. It is even more amazing how desperately we as humans cling on to our memories. We hold on to the memory of certain things that have happened to us as if nothing else could be more important in the world, the egocentric beings that we are. It has been said that we all view ourselves as the centre of our own universe.
For a dimension so intangible as Time, the only proof that time has passed is our memory. The only proof that we led any kind of life in that time, is our memory; a series of electric pulses our brain can recreate to conjure up old images and soundfiles and smells.
No matter what you do in life, it seems as if the only thing that makes it truly worthwhile is our personal record of things that happened. Our memories make us the person who we think we are, without certain recollections of events that occured in the past, we have no gauge of where we want to go if we don't already know where we've been.
And so, I guess I am thankful for all the memories I have made lately. For all the smiles and frowns, all the tears (maybe less so) and the laughter, and for the friends I have made, and unmade, in unexpected places, for making life somewhat eventful.
5 comments:
Creative streak when you are down? Tell me about it; when i am depressed, inspirations flow into my head like hmm, a haemorrhage? Probably thats why my blog is filled with emo entries =p. I once read an article in New Scientist about artists feeling much more creative during bouts of melancholy. Hmm, if emo = increased creativity and increased creativity = good, then emo = good!
You WOULD say that wouldn't you emo boy!
I've gotten the feeling that you enjoy being melancholy =P
There's something addictive about being emo.
And like all things addictive, it's not necessarily good for you =P
seriously though, have u ever had a major flashback? it freaked me out how vivid it was.
not that i remember of. Come to think of it, there is nothing interesting to reminiscence for me. *becomes emo*
Hmm, judging from the symptoms..it must be pancake-induced flashbacks! Haha.
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