time is such a strang, almost forighn, thing to me. it passes without real notice. it's always "now" always going to be "tomarrow" or "next time" and mean while all those "tomorrows" slip into yesterdays, and they're still never real to me. more like some strange dream. you may retain a few moments of it, but for the most part it's just a distant blurr.
the past becomes like a large dusty trunk with a hole in the bottom. not everything makes it into the trunk, but then even those things which do make it in may slip through the bottom and out the hole.
the strangest thing to me is how yesterday is somehow fuzzier to me than my second or seventh years of life. why is it ten years ago is clearer than ten minutes ago?
and so i date everything, keep everything, and try to remember everything. still things get lost or over looked. and i never seem quite able to keep track of it all.
my memory box is one such attempt at keeping everything.
my journals, homework, and even this journal are victums of my obsesive dating.
still ...
there days like just a week ago.
i don't remember when it was, or anything else that happened that day, only that i saw Brenda walking down the street from school on my way to bus. that's all. i try to 'remember everything' and yet, that one tiny marker of a brief few minutes is all that's left of an entire day. indeed, of the entire week. it was this month ... i think, probably only a week or three ago, but it's gone now. and it'll probably never come back. ... why should it?
yet ...
still my kindergarden class, my fifth grade year, and even my second birthday are safely tucked away.
why is that?
 Morrighan-Brann · Fri Feb 25, 2005 @ 09:26pm · 0 Comments |
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