memories

I think I am obsessed with remembering things.

I think it's because I think I will slowly get like my mom, and my grandfather before her, and my grandmother before him, and go slowly senile young. Maybe it's stress, maybe it's preventable....

Maybe it's just that in times of transition like this, everyone clutches at memories for some kind of comfort, to try to make sense of it all.

Some vivid memories of late....



As for now I'm gonna hear the saddest songs
And sit alone and wonder
How you're making out
But as for me I wish that I was anywhere
With anyone making out

I'm missing your laugh, how did it break?
And when did your eyes begin to look fake?
I hope you're as happy as you're pretending

Anybody remember that Dashboard Confessional song? SOOO emo, looking back. Whenever I hear it, I remember breaking up with Jake. I remember driving in the car with him and feeling the distance between us and wondering if he was interested in someone else. I wonder what would have given me THAT idea.



And most my memories
Have escaped me or confused themselves with dreams
If heaven's all we want it to be
Send your prayers to me
Care of Bridgeport, CT, and 1983

You can paint that house a rainbow of colors
Rip out the floorboards, replace the shutters
But that's my plastic in the dirt

Okay, so I've never been to Conneticut, BUT I love the sweet memory of plastic. I think much of my childhood is filled with it. My Playskool kitchen set. My big plastic red and yellow car. Barbies, Barbie houses. Barbie Ferraris and hot tubs, even. LEGOS, my GOD, my LEGOS. I love legos, let me tell you. I definitely lost a few in the dirt.



And a more recent one... without a song....
I went into Ethels to buy some chocolate, and I could not help remember just a few days earlier when Agata and I sat up on the balcony, and drank dark hot chocolate and milk and ate mohito chocolates and earl grey tea truffles, while agata laughed at my hostile conversation with tim and then we took retarded pictures of each other. :D We don't have to be ignorant to taste bliss, do we?



Ah, life is good. Or I'm high on serotonin from walking the three miles home from work today for exercise. ;)