Time Travelling
forgot how much I love writing. Writing letters, receiving them, all handwritten. The sentiment they convey. The elation. I forgot until I began rummaging through the bag that had been sitting desolate atop my brother's wardrobe gathering dust. What was it doing up there in the first place? I have no clue. What I do know with absolute certainty is we have the advent of the email to blame this loss of personal touch on - about the only other minus point with emails apart from the transmission of viruses.I'm a keeper. I keep letters, little notes, pictures (thousands of them I reckon), pieces of scribbling papers on which my friends and I doodled and held our delirious "mind conferences", raya and birthday cards, scrap pages, ticket stubs, flyers, basically anything that I could retain to remind me of my past. I call them memorabilia. My mom calls them trash. Well at least my "trash" has value. Oh no! Actually they are invaluable.
I keep for many reasons. For one thing I'm a hopeless romantic whose starry eyes are shadowed by her need to vocalise her thoughts and ideas on everything (it's almost uncanny how some people seem to have an opinion on everything and couldn't keep their thoughts from traversing their voiceboxes). For another, I don't have enough brain capacity to remember all those intangibles which have never failed to lift my spirit up when I'm feeling low and pull my feet back to the ground. Gone were the happy days. Only the traces of joy and the people they touched remain in memory.
Perusing my personal archive, I noticed how little I've changed over the years... Or so my friends from way back have testified. Perhaps I go through a cyclical balooning and deflation phase (though the period is always longer with the former). Perhaps the way I speak might have evolved through time but mind you, never the speed and frequency (I think my brain has a remarkable processing speed. Sometimes too fast for my nervous system to translate it to something intelligible, hence to my dismay, on many occasions I had talked and would continue to talk complete rubbish). Also, I've been told that I'm a funny person. WHAT?!! That is genuinely absurd. The truth is I'm the product of jolly jolly clumsy gal not thinking through what she is about to execute. Make sense now?! OK. Think this is enough this time around. Ciao!
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