The student media organization of California State University Northridge

Daily Sundial

The student media organization of California State University Northridge

Daily Sundial

The student media organization of California State University Northridge

Daily Sundial

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Memory bank stores all that we want to forget

Everybody has physical scars from all sorts of things. It is the same with the mind.

An aunt who admonished you with something rude for no fault of yours, a cousin whose words made you cry and the realization that a friend was no longer a friend anymore are a few. The list is endless.

We’ve clung to all those words and expressions long after they’ve gone and made them memories. We’ve frozen these moments in time and perversely recall them every time something goes wrong in our lives and end up making ourselves feel still more wretched. When a fresh hurt is caused, we bring out old memories from the archives of time and somehow manage to connect them and feel even worse then we should.

Our memory is a monster, we forget; it does not. We think we have a memory, but it has us.

You refuse to part with your memories until they become a part of you. And then one day they start getting fainter and fainter until finally they fade away.

Until an old memory decides to drop in for a visit one sleepless night …

I realized something. You never feel so alone as you do when you are lying wide-awake in the middle of the night, while the whole world sleeps.

My bedside clock told me it was 2:12 a.m. It is OK. I like even numbers. I switch on the television and flip through channels, hoping that something will catch my eye.

I have counted the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling, all the sheep in New Zealand, Liz Taylor’s husbands and diamonds (by the way, she has more of the latter. Smart woman). Her famous quote, “I have never hated a man enough to give him back his diamonds,” – I found it hilarious.

So, you wonder what to do, when sleep eludes you at 2 a.m. You raid the fridge, not caring about the calories. You try to read, but the words don’t hold your interest for long.

And your favorite music has never sounded so banal before.

Your mind is propelling you toward an area that you have long avoided successfully. It’s forcing you to “think.” To think about thoughts you do not want to think about. The “what ifs,” and the “I should have said that and done that.” But then, we are all geniuses in hindsight, so you push those thoughts away this time too.

Life has been a smooth ride. When I thought it was getting boring, the car broke down a couple of times. I came along a few ditches, ruts and sometimes pebbles to jar me a little. It shakes me up a bit and then parts of me hurt for a long time. But then again some of the same parts hurt when you kick yourself hard for doing or not doing something. So all is fair I think.

I have never felt the grass is greener on the other side. And if and when I did or do, I just mow my lawn better. Most of the time when I have wanted something, I have gone for it full throttle. Bu after I have got what I wanted, I have realized that I do not want it anymore. It is horrible to be in this situation, believe me, and it’s embarrassing too. You have no explanation to give and whatever you say sounds stupid, even to you.

Made some major faux pas in life, but got away with just a few scratches. Thousands of times I have found myself questioning God – “Why me?” – and have rarely got an answer then. It was revealed much later, and only then I understood and believed in “Whatever happens, happens for a reason.” I have learned that sweating over small stuff doesn’t matter.

Life has this habit of waiting for me to turn some corner and it startles me by yelling out “SURPRISE!” This shakes me up good and proper, I’ll be honest, but most of the time it’s worked out.

My writing started when thoughts came to mind that I could no longer ignore. I jotted them down and promptly forgot all about them! Thoughts turned to quotes, quotes turned to poetry, and one poem became two, then three and now I have so many poems that I could put together a book.

So life has been pretty serendipitous. I have enjoyed the journey thus far.

No regrets at all. I would live it the same way I have done given another chance.

I still don’t know which are the corners that life is waiting on the other side of to yell “SURPRISE,” but then that makes the walk all the more exciting, doesn’t it?

I take life as the “connect-the-dots” puzzle that we all did when we were little. We only saw the picture after we joined the dots from one to the other. So I am following the instructions, and connecting dots as I go by. Do get stuck sometimes, but someone always comes by to help and I know the final picture is going to be even more beautiful than I can imagine it to be.

My bedside clock told me it was 2:42 a.m. It is OK. I like even numbers. And more than that I’d like to watch a new sunrise in a few hours.

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