Sunday, June 24, 2012

Time is such a weird concept. Forgetting is even harder.

When looking through some old accounts on websites I used to have tonight, I found this makeshift "blog" post from the end of freshman year. 

Read this with the idea that it was written not only a few years ago, but also when I was evidently not in the perfect state of mind. The grammar is pretty much cringe worthy, yet I want to keep the authenticity of it for future readings, even if I am aching to change it. (the same reason I leave previous blog posts alone)

"I hate who i pretend to be. i hate that im not always me. i hate that im depressed 90% of the time. i hate that im not happy with my life. i hate that i cant do the things i love. i hate that my parents cant afford everything they used to able to. i hate that i live in a such a spoiled world of people who dont understand what its like to not be able to do whatever i want. i hate that i might have to switch schools next year because of finical trouble. i hate that if i switch school it'll be the third time in three years. i hate that my sister doesnt understand it when im sad. i hate that i completely broke down tonight. i hate that i dont truly trust any of my friends. i hate that high schools so fake. i hate that i have exams in the morning. i hate that i cant find it in myself to actually study. i hate that its already 11.19. i hate that my drivers ed lady was so stupid so i still dont have my permit. i hate that i probably wont get my licence until im 16 and a half unlike everyone else. i hate that im crying right now. i hate that people are so full of themselves. i hate that i actually have to make a list of things i hate to make me feel better. i hate that im older than most people in my grade. i hate that i finally accomplished something, by getting into an amazing drama camp this summer and i cant go. i hate that i cant go because its to expensive. i hate that everyone i know still thinks im going, and im gonna have to tell them soon. i hate that they actually called my house, and told me i was special (they only call a few people) and yet, i cant go. i hate that my parents got my hope u and told me i could go at first. i hate that i dont get to see a Broadway show like i wanted to. i hate that my parents promise me s much that never happens. i hate that i hate my life so much, when i know people have it so much worse than i do. i hate that someone i know just died form cancer. i hate that i never get to go on vacation.i hate that i never have any inspiration. i hate that i cant play guitar. i hate that im so awkward. i hate that im almost never completly happy. i hate that music can completly describe anything im going through. i hate that i spelled so many things wrong in this, and im to lazy to fix them. i hate this list of things that i hate."

It's weird to look at this considering how much has changed in the last two years; to think of where I truly was in myself then, considering where I may have thought I was. Memories are a weird thing, when I think of freshman year at this point in time, the end of junior year, I think of a time when I was generally happy to say the least, yet reflecting on the things I said in this post, I realize I wasn't.  It's weird to realize how many things you forget over time, to realize how many things don't have a lasting effect on your life. To think that in a few years time, my memories of that year will be even less there, even more tainted. It's even weirder to realize that the things I do now, such as writing this blog post, will be forgotten as well. To think that only the major events are the ones I'll remember, and some of those will be lost as well. Even though all the little things are the things which shape me into who I will be in the future, they still go seemingly unnoticed when you're living your life.  At a point seven, or eight year old me probably went through something drastic, something that I thought I would never forget, yet the memory is gone completely; vanished into a sea of the unknown. Which is a terrifying thought to say the least, because it means that the things which truly were important to me at one point, are gone, and even though they meant the world, my mind simply doesn't have enough room to remember every little detail of my life. I'm changing constantly, and because your experiences are what make you yourself, the fact that I'm losing old memories that at one point shaped me means I'm one hundred percent evolving into another person. The old me is long lost, which is terrifying. 

It's weird to have the revelation that what I do now simply, in the grand scheme of things, doesn't matter.

You like to think that you never truly change, that you learn and understand more, but at the core your still yourself. I guess in my mind I'm starting to doubt this idea as being true. Maybe it's just the completely out of my mind philosopher/over thinker part of me that's thinking this, but am I wrong. I can say that I am now completely different than I was at three years old, with complete serenity.  Maybe this wears off as you get older, and find yourself, maybe once your an adult you come to a sort of stopping point and find your true self. Maybe all growing up really is is changing, not just the way you look evolving but who you are, and then cone your done growing physically, you come to a sort of stop mentally. Except your always learning which makes me think that you must change.

And here I am analyzing every little detail of everything, even though quite frankly it doesn't matter. Life will move on whether I figure out a final idea on this or not, even though I highly doubt I'll ever come to a conclusion to be frank being as indecisive as I am.

I guess this whole blog post just connects to the reason I wanted to make this blog; so I can remember the little things.  On the off chance that I actually come back to this blog in two years, or even twenty I want to be able to remember some of the little things I may have thought as unimportant as they may be, just so that maybe I'll still be able to understand a past me, and hold onto it. Losing myself is one of my biggest fears, and maybe this blog will help.

-That Girl incredibly confused as to everything that matters yet at the same time doesn't.

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