Commit This to Memory

Could you un-know me

Be warned, that this might be full of grammatical errors, and it will probably sound like me thinking out loud (in typed words).

I wonder if it's normal, for people to think so much about what they're going to do in life, or how they're going to get to where they want to be in life. Could it possibly be a thing about being in your 20s, when life passes both too quickly and too slowly simultaneously.

I've been lucky to have met the people I have at various points in my life, in the various things that I do. It's hard to describe the feelings of paralysis I get from fear and from an irrational sense of being down. It's hard to describe these feelings particularly when there are no apparent reasons behind them. All I know is that I keep doing things not only because I love them, but because they help me avoid feeling so erratic all the time. And it brings me to wonder if I love what I do because it helps me feel better, or if I feel better because I love what I do.

And to be honest, does that really matter? Just like the ending of Inception, where viewers are left wondering if Dom Cobb was in a dream or if it were reality. But, in effect, it didn't matter because he was happy and that's enough for him.

It's been very draining for me, emotionally that is. Letting go, picking up, holding on, holding myself together all in a span of two short months. I don't know how I'm going to get through. It scares me that I don't know if I can ever be truly honest with myself, when my truest thoughts scare me. And it all comes back to that I'm so full of fear.

And the people I've met lately have changed me. Could you un-know me? Maybe my life would be different if I could un-know you? Thank you for being my safety for that short period, and even now. And thank you, for caring for me. I know you see your younger self in me, and you hope I wouldn't fall into the same depths as you did - I don't say it but we're strangers and yet you care for me so much. I don't want to disappoint.

You told me people change, and I silently wished it wouldn't happen to us.

love, 01:53
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If I lose myself

Now the first month of 2015 is over, and half of the second too. Just ten and a half to go.

For some reason, I'm trying to be excited about this year. And I think I actually am starting to be just slightly excited about it.

All change comes with a mix of...anticipation, fear, stress and risk. Always risk.

Anticipation
It seems that this year will be a year of taking risks. I've been sitting on it for a long time now, and it's come to a point where it's got to be now or never.

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Fear
Does it scare me that I could end up regretting everything? Yes.
But should that necessarily stop me? That's a question I'm still trying to answer. I guess it boils down to whether I'll be happy to settle for what I have now, or if I'm willing to risk everything in hopes of something better.
Creature comforts. Most days I'm okay, and it scares me that I could risk everything to open a box that could have nothing in it. Most days I'm okay, but every day I wonder if I could try harder to get to better. Maybe that is in itself, an answer in its own way.

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Stress
Survival, passion, reality, the journey of getting from point A to point B.
It seems that there is stress at the core of it all. Stress in finding a balance between survival and chasing my passions, stress in dealing with the fear of losing the stability I have, stress in just being.

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Risk
I need to take a risk, or I may never settle. Maybe I'll look back at the end of this year, and find that I never ended up taking this risk.

I hope that doesn't happen, and if it does happen, I can only hope I did what I did with good reason. It scares me that this year is a massive question mark, and that everything could change - but that everything could also stay the same.

It's strange that the prospect of everything staying the same scares me, but it does.

Better a life of oh well's than what if's?

love, 02:01
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I don't know if I will ever see you again, and at this moment, I think I will be okay. But I'm in that stage where the memories of you are so fresh and reality feels unreal.

This might be the most raw post I have, writing on a train and thinking that, time and again time has made a fool of me.

I miss you already.

love, 21:45
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