sometimes i'm still afraid i'll forget...

family time is:

sitting, eating, watching television.


but this time instead of a 'good' hallmark movie, we watched Everything is Illuminated.
an indi film shown in limited theaters that won awards in various film festivals.
i think mom only recorded it because the description mentioned the Holocaust and Elijah Wood was a principal character.


she thought it odd and wished we had watched a 'good' movie instead.


i loved it.


oh, the look she gave me, ha!


the main character, Jonathan, 'collects' things.
his office has an entire wall with a few photos, each surrounded with things in individual zip-lock bags.
instantly i realize that he is collecting things about people for a certain reason...
later i realize it's not just about people.


in one scene, Jonathan picks up a grasshopper, puts it in his glasses case, and deposits it into a bag.
the man leading him around the Ukraine in search for his grandfather's village asks why he does that.


"...so he'll always remember." i say.


"sometimes i'm afraid i'll forget." Jonathan says.




cue mom looking at me oddly.


i didn't want to forget.


i kept things because i was indeed afraid i would forget...


perhaps had i pinned them to my wall in a meticulously neat manner i would see them day by day and remember...


i don't even know where the tin with dried flowers, movie stubs, tiny bundles of dog fur and party favors are.
then there are the papers in my desk, the junk in my dresser drawers...


just aswell, i have forgotten.


as i mentioned a few days ago, 
the memories slip away and there isn't as much to hold on to.


yet here i am, still surrounded with things.
i can get rid of them now, yet i haven't the time to sort.
however the papers jammed in my dresser...
ha, 'twill be a while before those don't conjure up memories, even if they are not that special.


would that i were such a neat person...
then again, in this house i'm driven to neat-freak insanity enough, i needn't be OCD about it.




it is quite sad, losing memories.
forgetting things.
knowing they meant something important once and now you cannot conjure up a meaningful thought in regards to it.
...this is especially sad when they are a symbol of something greater, because it's not the item that carries the importance... a few days ago i said there was more to the missing than 'things.'
i suppose i'm allowed to elaborate now.


but things, once forgotten they're nothing better than a scrawl on a notepad written in the dark, you grasped for the notepad and pencil because some dream was important enough to scribble down.


you wake up.


...now what does it mean?


you have the faint feeling of it in your head, but you can't find the meaning.


life is built on trusting that such thoughts help form you even if you lose them.


...or the hope, rather.


but then there are those that...
ah, the look that elijah wood (as jonathan) gave the things he picked up...
you could tell the character got it.
wonder if the actor did.


but remembering...
what is it about that...


perhaps once you realize what you're losing you want to keep it?


i haven't a clue how to define myself.


...now i'm thinking of dreams, especially ones that are wild chases after meaning...
it's always odd to walk in your mind and have the feeling that everything is crucial... 
everything must be remembered, everything.
and then i wake up and scarcely remember a thing.
i may have a few verses edging into my mind, things like...


i don't even remember.
but they are those things that end up scrawled on a notepad.


the thoughts that scream at you while your eyes rest.


sometimes i wonder who is more vivid, me or the thoughts and meanings trying to get out.


i quite like it when we are the same.


...but i like them better when they are tall, giants...
and i'm walking about among the blades of grass that reach as high as skyscrapers.
gazing up and trying to see where they end...


most people walk among this 'forest' while blundering about, bumping into truths and leaving memories willy nilly,


then i suppose there are the people that feel each stalk, weigh it in their mind, gain an understanding of the world by wonder and memories.




i would try to better relay the image and how it says to me that, but...
well, we walk this world blindfolded. 
there are those that feel everything and blunder about in the dark just trying to make it through,
then there are those that feel each wall and doorway in an attempt to understand the structure they are in.


you know, i find it odd that i see a lot more on this page than i will a few months from now.


...then again, perhaps i will still remember the pauses, the sudden springing up of fitting words, different ways of understanding things, redundant epiphanies, ha, oh dear, the pauses, everything.


...i love to find glimmers of myself in other things...


reflections.


...i want to see this movie again already.
witty, in depth...


my parents didn't get it, but it followed one of my thought processes very well...




i just said 'one of my thought processes'

...ridiculously true. i wonder if most people have various thought processes or just one they stick to...


*sigh*


"everything is illuminated in the light of the past."


everything is illuminated.


hmm...


*ellipsis trail off into the night*


i think i'll keep these ellipsis, no pinning to the wall at the moment.






...i never want to forget, but it is wonderful to not live in fear of forgetting.