Well, I'm moving again. Nothing new really. I've done it once a year for the past 5 years. This time I have a whole week with no real responsibilities except for work to get all of my packing, thinking, and waltzing down memory lane done.
I guess because I don't have all the responsibilities of being in school and being an RA I can actually filter through all the stuff that I've accumulated over my college years. Its kind of funny how I've carried all of it from place to place while moving but never really unpacked it. The stuff stays packed away neatly in the same boxes just waiting for the next move. Well this time I decided to try to sort out the good stuff from the useless stuff that just adds weight to boxes that are already about to break.
Last night it was almost overwhelming looking at these various items, maps of Vancouver, Brazilian change (coins), Waffle House parafanailia, old journals, notes from philosophy or Art history classes. All these strange items that hold absolutely no value to anyone but me. I sat there in my floor, and on the corner of my bed as the stories and the memories of people and places that validate my preservation of these artifacts swirled around me and one by one filled my head, and worked on down into my chest. The time that I was granted in college has been no doubt the best time of my life. It was fun to sit there and read old journals where I was writing as if I had it all figured out...When I was a sophomore. Then to read entries from my junior and senior year that tell of my realization that I don't know anything, only to see that a few pages later I had it together again. At one point I laughed out loud because in one particular entry I seemed like I was getting it. I seemed like I was having a glimpse of clarity. There was zeal in my writing, there was purpose to what I was saying, and there was truth sprinkled thought my sentences....Then I turn the page and I never wrote in that notebook again. I guess I've always been inconsistent, probably always will be.
It was funny to me also to see the things I wrote about various girls I liked throughout college. I actually found a set of notes that I had come up with that I used in talking to the last girl that I "dated" (I was so against that term then that I didn't use such dreadful language, but that's what we did...We dated) about why we shouldn't move toward dating but rather just be friends and go on dates. I was actually surprised by the thought I put into it all, but still see that I was pretty uptight. Its funny to see things that I had done that I forgot I had done. Like writing letters to this girl because I felt like I couldn't tell her my feelings so I'd write them down, date them, and give them to her later, so she could see how long I'd been feeling this way. Its especially funny to see those things after you can't remember that you did them, and beyond that haven't seen the girl they are about in more than 3 years. Its also kind of sobering to see that I wanted to do the same thing not too long ago, but for whatever reason didn't....Guess I am growing up.
No comments:
Post a Comment