I watched home movies tonight on a whim. I ended up doing so for 3 hours. It's funny because I ignore the past a lot. I don't like looking at it. I've become a person who thinks it's useless to analyze it, because it would drive me crazy and it just can't be changed. What would be the point? But watching small me made me feel things.
It made me remember that I have been someone else before.
When you've been a certain person for a long time, it becomes impossible to remember who you were before it. 3-year-old you and 10-year-old you seem like other people- there is a disconnect. And it's crazy, because THAT WAS ME. And I'm watching this little girl observe every thing, rarely beg adults for attention, and constantly seem like she's in her own little world- and I'm like "ugh god, that's definitely me."
I have so many questions I don't know if I want to ask. I don't want to ruin the purity of these moments. The period of time where I wasn't analyzing my life and what it meant. I want to leave them as they are; let me idealize them. I need that.
17 years ago I was eating breakfast with tigger, and tonight I'm staring at the ashes of my best friend for the past 9 years sitting on my kitchen table.
I feel bad for little me. I don't know why. I shouldn't...I don't. I envy her. She didn't know what was going to happen, no one who pored over me and my cuteness could have possibly predicted I would become this person. Yet I'm watching these tapes and I'm like "of course..of course this is me."
I love her because she's me. I've always tried to do the best I possibly can for her. To try and get to that place of happiness from within. From a pure place. Because we live in this world of showing off how smart we are, how much more we think we know than the next person, and this relentless sense of competition is what we think matters. Who cares about complexity if you're fucking miserable? For bragging rights? We think showing off is what will make us happy...ignorance is what makes you happy. And if you can't be ignorant...well, I'm still trying to figure that one out.
My mom says, "I miss having that little person around." I say, "Me too." I really mean it. She continues, "When they're little you can't wait for them to get older, but then when they get old you think about how it goes by so fast..." I say, "Hopefully we'll have another little one running around..eventually. Not soon." I say it jokingly but there's something more behind it. I like that thought. Of creating my own memories. New ones filled with love and hope and clean slates.
I know that life can be complicated and bogged down with shit. I know things 3-year-old me didn't know. I've seen and felt and experienced things she couldn't have. I've been sad and broken and disappointed...disappointment can be such a spirit breaker, such an awful thing. I never wanted it for her. But it's okay. I'll always be okay, even when I don't think I will be.
Memories...we remember things by putting them on tapes and keeping them in silver boxes. Regardless of the physical things we keep, all of this stays inside of us. Even when we can't remember specific moments. Sometimes I disregard the past and deem it as meaningless because I feel as though it has nothing to do with my present or future- but it has everything to do with my present and future. It lasts forever, just because it existed. I don't know why I do but I have to believe in that. I know death is as real as anything, but I don't think anything ever really dies. Because the effects of anything will always trickle down into something else. They stay for good. It's strange that I believe in forever when I could never understand forever.
I'm turning 20 in less than two weeks and I still know nothing. All I know is that I want to do good for the pure person that will always be inside of me. I don't want to let her down. I want her to keep loving, and to keep fiercely caring about the things that ignite something in her...even when it's hard.
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