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Memory

Fade in; Fade out, my mood swings from melancholy to simple repression. The dimness of my room is most life my old one, but there is something different about it. Maybe it is the breath of who occupies it. My days are regular here; I awake with forced energy, and lift my body up. From my closet I pull jeans, a plain shirt, and boots. The mornings are cold, as I dress and stumble down the stairs... I pour dark coffee 1 teaspoon of sugar, and creamy milk together, into one cup. Aw, the beauty of this. A drink that calms and sets the day. Alone, I sip the coffee and wonder in my thoughts. A picture comes to mid, of a blond girl (myself) and another whose hair I short and spiky. This girl is my sister. She is not actually my sister, but that does not really matter. She made me feel important, and alive, that is what really counts. The day starts out as school in such a symbolic way. I get on the bus, and unzip my book bag to find my CD player. My escape from the social voices around me… under my breath I mumble along the words “twenty, twenty, twenty-four hours to go, I wanna be sedated nothing to do nowhere to go, I wanna be sedated”. At school I mostly skip the whole teenage socializing and gossip. Occasionally I will smile at some acutance friends. The one thing I ponder the most is if I will ever have those people to talk to again. And how long will I have to wait until I get to talk to them. I have so much to share, time will only tell my place in this scene.
There is one particular time in my life that I remember so clearly. Almost like a black and white photo that is covered with dust. I am walking down a street, hand in hand with my sister. We are laughing, yet out eyes are red, tears falling every now and then, and I feel good. She says,
“I know why you came back, I was thinking and wondering why, but now I know” I looked at her with all kinds of tears falling,
“Then why did I come back?” “Because God knows we are stronger in numbers”… The embrace that followed this statement was so pure, yet all knowing. Knowing that one-day when both of us will have to be strong enough alone. This memory is from last summer. I was visiting my best friend for one last time. She was dealing with her mother’s, step-father’s, sister’s issues, including her own. Yet, still I could make her laugh, and I could calm her down. I could look at her and see that our relationship is the most beautiful thing in my life.
This memory was before I moved here, my dad is in the military, and our family is dragged along with his job. I left her along with a few very close friends. She is stronger then them though. Stronger, and so much smarter. She too moved away. Into her father’s house where she can start a new life that didn’t revolve around hate, or just plain pain. My days are re-runs of my past. I remember things that took place and try to put meaning to them. Try to find the reason for my move. It is part of growing up, change, that is. Some people go through their whole life thinking that is it. Where they live, the friends they currently have. That is what they will live forever. For some of them, it is true. The will never progress, and I feel sorry for them. It is so naïve to live that way. Where you are right now doesn’t say much of anything about your future in reality. Especially if you are still in high school. This may sound strange, but I feel since I have seen more of life, then most people, that it makes me so much more aware of what I haven’t seen. Can I honestly say that this school-led life is what my purpose is? No this is nearly training. I’m not saying that school doesn’t count for anything, I’m saying some people get so caught up in what is happening “here and now” that they forget about “there and after”. For me, I think I am more of a “then and before” person. I get so caught up in the past that I forget I am still living. “Moving forward”, I tell myself. “Don’t over analysis”, yet I often still feel I am living a memory.

Sept-Dec 99

Email: lost_it_again@hotmail.com