Walking Down Memory Lane

So, I’ve been trying to find ways to make my iPad useful. I really want it to become a productivity tool. So, this post is an image of the post I wrote tonight.

(The handwriting recognition was terrible, so I’m attaching an image of my handwriting instead, despite the introductory paragraph.)

I hope you can read it. I printed. I don’t like printing. I much prefer writing in cursive. I’m in much discontent with the discontinuation of the teaching of handwriting, in all its variation, in the new and emerging curriculums. I working on a post about my thoughts on this subject, but it causes a fire in my chest that rages in my head and I find it hard to clear through the brush to make sense of it all.

Anyway, here is what you came looking for:

memoryLane - 1

memoryLane - 2 memoryLane - 3 memoryLane - 4

Here’s the link that didn’t make it: https://youtu.be/RkEXGgdqMz8


Do y’all have memories that just, kind of, won’t leave you? What do you do about it? Please leave a comment below with your thoughts on this.

2 thoughts on “Walking Down Memory Lane

  1. I often think about Finland. Not good things, not bad things, not really even indifferent things… just moments long passed that I play over and over in my mind. I don’t want to change any of them, but I want to relive them like watching your favorite movie for the umpteenth time. My memory cannot replay as well as a movie can, so that may be a poor analogy, but I’m hoping you understand. I even remember remembering my life before Finland while being in Finland. (Often alone and listening to my bright red discman, also sony, and smoking cigarettes)
    What do I do about these lingering thoughts?
    Listen to the cranberries, dance, sing outloud, and smile.
    I’ve had a lot of terrible experiences in my life. I’ve had a lot of bliss in my life. I believe I will keep adding memories of my experiences to my existential self; therefore I will always be in process.
    I had a chance to meet a Finnish friend I made during my year abroad in NYC last year, her name is Piia. During our conversation, I kept bringing up memories of my time there and she asked, “do you really think about Finland that often?”
    She looked and spoke to me as if I was deranged… I made an excuse and said, “no”, but the truth is yes. (We haven’t contacted each other since…)
    I’m empathetic to those who remember too much. Or over think everything. My sobriety also adds to this dilemma, being that my head is so clear.
    In closing, if you truly believe in who you are, than it’s impossible to have regrets. Even if in the present moment, you’re stuck in a past memory. Time is like a giant packman chewing up the seconds behind us as quick as me live them, but memory gives us hope.
    2 cents paid.

    1. Thank you for your comment.

      I, too, think about Finland. It was, after all, an experience, as advertised, that changed my life.

      I think your movie analogy is fitting, although my experience is different in that I wish the tape would be pulled from the casing so that the memories remain intake but require a special effort to be rewound and watched. Of course, like you, not all of my memories are bad and none are unwanted.

      Finland was an interesting time. It is where you and I met. And, of all the people I met that year, you’re the only one I still wonder about and keep in some sort of contact with. I also remember Piia, if only because I was wearing your straight-legged jeans because mine had become soaked and stained from a walk through a beet farm. We drank moonshine that night, and I ended up ruining your jeans while being carried through another farm. I had Michael Jackson’s Invincible album in my discman at the time.

      I’m okay with regrets because they are as malleable as our memories; the Pacman chasing us forces us into new corners of the maze, helping us gain new perspective on the path we’ve already taken.

      I hope your art is going well. I’ve been following your posts with great interest. The sand-cast face you sent me remains part of my meager collection. Let’s hope we’ll get the chance to meet face-to-face again, and talk about what we remember.

      Keep well,

      –B

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