Cleaning Out the Past
Jun. 9th, 2005 11:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tabular_rasaWhat better way to get myself in the mood for graduation than cleaning up my room some more? Digging back up old memories attached to those tangible things which provide them, glancing at them for one last moment, and then throwing them away forever, left with only the memory, if it stays, with nothing left to bring it back to attachment.
I feel like I should be right back in 9th grade. I guess it's mostly because I've been looking through all of my old 9th grade things, my old backpack, which, well, hasn't been cleaned up since then . . . I just got a new one, lol . . . but, for some reason, 9th grade seems to be hitting me right now. I suppose I'll feel like a 4th or 5th grader when I clean all of that stuff back out of my closet . . .
It's really surprising me how well I'm handling this. I'm throwing aways years of stuff . . . some of it really isn't that important, and I'm saving most that IS important, but, still . . . locking it away in bins, knowing that's the only place where it's going to be from now on, as my room becomes open game for anyone, as I can't just sift through any of it any old time that I like . . . as I can't come back and stay nestled in it. My photographic memory will lose its practice, as I have so many memories of simply just WHERE things are. Those will be pointless memories, now . . . unless I want to go back and put everything back where I found it, someday, like if I buy the house from my parents or something.
I guess for the longest time I'd always just had this hope that my room would remain the way as it was forever and ever, as like a sort of shrine to me . . . I guess that memory just sort of stays coupled with the belief that I was going to die before now, too . . . and that maybe the family would just save the room as it was, so that they could walk in and feel my aura all over again, and remember me . . . and I'd have left them plenty of hints about my personality and things to discover, should they choose to search for them.
That's what I'm doing . . . de-aura-izing my room. That's crazy. Yet I do believe that that is true . . . I don't have a soul home-base anymore . . .
I'm crazy.
Anyway, I'm going off to commencement rehearsal in a bit, and I need to eat lunch.
(WTF-- they remade that "Listen to Your Heart" song??? I just heard it on the radio . . . that song's only like 10 years old . . . okay, maybe 15, but . . . shut up . . . )
I feel like I should be right back in 9th grade. I guess it's mostly because I've been looking through all of my old 9th grade things, my old backpack, which, well, hasn't been cleaned up since then . . . I just got a new one, lol . . . but, for some reason, 9th grade seems to be hitting me right now. I suppose I'll feel like a 4th or 5th grader when I clean all of that stuff back out of my closet . . .
It's really surprising me how well I'm handling this. I'm throwing aways years of stuff . . . some of it really isn't that important, and I'm saving most that IS important, but, still . . . locking it away in bins, knowing that's the only place where it's going to be from now on, as my room becomes open game for anyone, as I can't just sift through any of it any old time that I like . . . as I can't come back and stay nestled in it. My photographic memory will lose its practice, as I have so many memories of simply just WHERE things are. Those will be pointless memories, now . . . unless I want to go back and put everything back where I found it, someday, like if I buy the house from my parents or something.
I guess for the longest time I'd always just had this hope that my room would remain the way as it was forever and ever, as like a sort of shrine to me . . . I guess that memory just sort of stays coupled with the belief that I was going to die before now, too . . . and that maybe the family would just save the room as it was, so that they could walk in and feel my aura all over again, and remember me . . . and I'd have left them plenty of hints about my personality and things to discover, should they choose to search for them.
That's what I'm doing . . . de-aura-izing my room. That's crazy. Yet I do believe that that is true . . . I don't have a soul home-base anymore . . .
I'm crazy.
Anyway, I'm going off to commencement rehearsal in a bit, and I need to eat lunch.
(WTF-- they remade that "Listen to Your Heart" song??? I just heard it on the radio . . . that song's only like 10 years old . . . okay, maybe 15, but . . . shut up . . . )
