it’s now 3:15am and i can’t sleep.
ok, maybe it’s because of the dull throb emanating from my jaw. or maybe it’s because of the thoughts that randomly popped up in my head that, try as i might, i just can’t seem to get rid of.

i am a backward-looking person, a person of the past. yes, i do tend to worry about the future quite a bit, but for better or worse, my thoughts lie mostly in the past. what i just read, what i just watched, what i just ate (yes, i do eat -_-). but not just that. i think about who i used to be, what i used to do — the happenings and occurrences of yesteryear that have shaped me into who i am today — for we are now what we went through then. for better (less like) or worse (more like), i dwell on the past — my past — instead of focusing on the present, instead of planning better for the future. and i really should appreciate the present (for it is, indeed, a gift as the saying goes) and really learn to make the most of it, and leave no regrets and all that jazz, but that is another story for another time. because i can’t help but feel that, without my constant dwelling on the past, i would be an entirely different person altogether, and i’m not sure if i want that. i’m not sure if i’m willing to give it up.

perhaps, if i try to understand it in a different manner….
to me, my past is what shapes my future. what i’ve been through in the past helps me decide (on those rare occasions when i actually make decisions) what i’ll do in the present — or present/future, to be more technical.. which by the way would make an interesting philosophical discussion i would think, seeing as the present is the past by the time you speak of it, but still in the future when you plan for it =)
i know there are many people who live in the present. those who can put aside their past and start anew, who can live for the moment. and that’s pretty cool too.. it’s just not who i am, and i’ve got to accept that.
just like i have to learn to accept the fact that personalities are not habits; you can’t just try to “change” people if that’s who they are, unlike bad habits, which can be corrected.

[wow now my head’s a jumble…]

i really can’t put my thoughts into words, but sometimes i really really really wish that memory works like a videotape. i won’t be greedy and ask for it to work like a DVD or anything digital or high-tech. just a videotape that can rewind to every moment of my life. so i can remember what my old apartment looked like. my dad’s old van. my mom’s old convertible. my old classmates. my old friends. my old rooms. my old schools. i wish i could remember it all, and that the people i remember would remember me too.

i can barely remember riding in the back of my dad’s old blue van, looking out the back window in the dark because i was told that in the car behind us were two other kids just a little older than me.
i can barely remember my old teachers, all of whom were really nice to me.
i can barely remember playing aladdin and sonic the hedgehog and streetfighter.
i can barely remember drawing on the paper easel in the early evening, and then getting ready to sleep soon after on the mattress with the windows open for the breeze to come.
i can barely remember crying because i was so full i wanted to throw up, and my godmother covering for me.
i can barely remember getting lost and following a lady to the counter in a kmart that later closed  with a big sale after they declared bankruptcy.
i can barely remember running in the field, riding the bus, singing the national anthem, eating with friends, tattling on others, getting mad, scared, embarrassed, happy, overwhelmed.
what were their names? what did we play?
what did it look like? where did i go?

i hate forgetting. i hate how i try but fail.
and i end up taking advantage of people, of not being thankful enough, grateful enough, for the roles they’ve played in my life, for the memories.
maybe that’s all it boils down to. remembering so i can be a better person.
[actually that’s not quite it, but i’ve gone kinda off-track and can’t remember my original purpose/intent, and thus it is all i can come up with]

i guess it’s just hard, sometimes, remembering an old wisp of a memory, and then having to figure out if it was real or if i only know it because my parents told me about it or if it’s merely a scene from a dream…

i like being verbose, except it mostly makes me sound linkinpark/mychemicalromance-angry/a little dark/depressed/emo -_-
i also really like “perhaps” and “merely”

it’s funny how thoughts about my old schools, my old houses and homes and apartments and abodes can lead to those incoherent ramblings that make ordinary xanga posts into long…things that sound like a lecture on personality or philosophy or something equally boring =)

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