Memories.Made.

Take a moment. Slow down. Relax...

Well it's not like I've been busy packing.
After all, there isn't much stuff to bring...
Well, there are lots of stuff that I'd bring with me.
Mostly memorable things that contained incalculable sentimental value (to me,of course...)
But it's just too many.
Mom told me to only bring the "essentials".
The things that I'm not going to use on a daily basis ?

Leave them.
Leave them here.
In my old home.
Sitting there waiting for me to come home.
Gathering layers of dust.
Watching the sun rise and set through my window.
Devoid of any life.

I really have A LOT of "junk" that I can't bring myself to throw away.
They're useless, outdated, and more importantly, making my room a mess.
Yet, each one of them holds the memory of one of 6603 days that I've lived.
We all know we can't go back in time to relive the past.
That's why I collect these "junk", they're my only remembrance.
The only proof I have for my past.
Isn't that why people like to take pictures ?
Because they know they can't go back;
That's why they try to capture the moment with a camera ?

Now I'm busy debating what I should bring with me.
And what I should leave behind.
I like to think that all my things are somehow alive.
They have feelings too.
And it hurts to feel abandoned.
Abandoned and alone.
So I talk to them, to keep them from feeling lonely.
So I keep them safe, so no one will hurt them.
So I never let them go, because they are what defines my past.
My memories, and my life.
Bit by bit.

My old blanket was old.
Holes made up 70% of it's whole body.
Yet I couldn't bring myself to get a new one.
It was scary to fall asleep back then,
knowing that when you're unconscious,
you'll move around, sometimes even aggresively.
You're actions will fill what you love with even more holes...
In the end, mom got rid of it without me knowing.

Mom got a birthday gift from grandma.
It was huge pink stuffed dog.
After so many years, it's stuffing had all escaped that pink cocoon.
Now it sleeps in my room.
It's body devoid of any "flesh".
And soon I'll be leaving that here too.
In my empty room.

Feeling attached to something kinda sucks.
Knowing that it's hard to let it go.
The same can be said for friends.
You think you're close with them.
But without any interactions, how long do you think it'll take.
Before the ice builds back up again.
The next time two friends meet, might not be the same as how two friends met.
Treasure it all while you still can.

Listening to Tegami - Angela Aki

Packing with nostalgia,

TK