Home Improvement / Memories
That's right, I've just undergone a 3-day intensive course in home improvement. I'm now the official new tenant of the master bedroom, which has been pretty much wasted space since it used to hold wardrobes, a spare bed and my dad who doesn't really spend much time in the room anyway. Apart from the hassle of redoing the bathroom, installing a new system of curtains and repainting the room, the most painful part is probably hauling all my junk into the new room, with most of it still lying in the hall now, the fate of each piece still yet unknown (throw? keep? pass to someone?)
It's amazing how much junk I've collected over the years. Going through all my old stuff, I think I suffer from a complex - a packrat complex. I still keep stuff from school - notes of subjects I like (mainly English Literature and Science - Maths has been dumped right after I passed the exams), my own writing which I still think is worth keeping, stuff that people give me - like well-meaning but completely useless souvenirs, birthday presents, "thank you for coming to our wedding" gifts, old magazines (can't bear to throw away anything that's glossy, well-photographed and in full colour...ohh...), old letters (ok these are probably worth keeping)...the list goes on and on...
It's truly a journey of self-discovery. Why did I keep all that stuff? As I spent hours going further and further into history, fighting bigger and bigger dust bunnies, I think I wanted to keep those things to remind myself of what I think was important in the past - some memories, events and people I never want to forget, what I had hoped for myself in the future. And also what a pain it is to keep this kind of burden for myself.
What good are memories?
Suddenly Blondie's "The Rules for Living" seem particularly poignant...
In another life
When the gods were crazy
And the measurement of time
Was the ending seasons
And maybe we believed
There was anger in the storm
Sometimes the Sky reminds me
And if you think that's wild
There's my dream of Egypt
And the colour of the Nile
You're a Roman Soldier
It's small world after all
But's older than you think
Sometimes your eyes remind me
Don't know why
I'll wait a lifetime till you find me
There are times
Mmmm I've been this way before
Mmmm I'll come this way again
So many things remind me
So many things inside me
Sometimes your eyes remind me
Don't know why
I'll wait a lifetime till you find me
There are times
Mmmm I've been this way before
Mmmm I'll come this way again
So many things remind me
So many things inside me
In another life
When the gods were crazy
And complaining all the time
And the people look at me
The volcano wants a bride
And I'm still afraid of fire
Sometimes your eyes remind me
I don't know why
I'll wait a lifetime till you find me
There are times
Mmmm I've been this way before
Mmmm I'll come this way again
So many things remind me
So many things inside me
Mmmm I've been this way before
Mmmm I'll come this way again
So many things remind me
So many things inside me
I don't really believe in past lives but...some things that happen that stop you in your tracks and say "hey wait a minute..." - deja vus, flashbacks, or even someone you meet that stirs up unexplained yet familiar feelings. But I know if I did have past lives, I would want to keep every shred of memory and every little memento I have.
"So many things remind me..."
That's right, I've just undergone a 3-day intensive course in home improvement. I'm now the official new tenant of the master bedroom, which has been pretty much wasted space since it used to hold wardrobes, a spare bed and my dad who doesn't really spend much time in the room anyway. Apart from the hassle of redoing the bathroom, installing a new system of curtains and repainting the room, the most painful part is probably hauling all my junk into the new room, with most of it still lying in the hall now, the fate of each piece still yet unknown (throw? keep? pass to someone?)
It's amazing how much junk I've collected over the years. Going through all my old stuff, I think I suffer from a complex - a packrat complex. I still keep stuff from school - notes of subjects I like (mainly English Literature and Science - Maths has been dumped right after I passed the exams), my own writing which I still think is worth keeping, stuff that people give me - like well-meaning but completely useless souvenirs, birthday presents, "thank you for coming to our wedding" gifts, old magazines (can't bear to throw away anything that's glossy, well-photographed and in full colour...ohh...), old letters (ok these are probably worth keeping)...the list goes on and on...
It's truly a journey of self-discovery. Why did I keep all that stuff? As I spent hours going further and further into history, fighting bigger and bigger dust bunnies, I think I wanted to keep those things to remind myself of what I think was important in the past - some memories, events and people I never want to forget, what I had hoped for myself in the future. And also what a pain it is to keep this kind of burden for myself.
What good are memories?
Suddenly Blondie's "The Rules for Living" seem particularly poignant...
In another life
When the gods were crazy
And the measurement of time
Was the ending seasons
And maybe we believed
There was anger in the storm
Sometimes the Sky reminds me
And if you think that's wild
There's my dream of Egypt
And the colour of the Nile
You're a Roman Soldier
It's small world after all
But's older than you think
Sometimes your eyes remind me
Don't know why
I'll wait a lifetime till you find me
There are times
Mmmm I've been this way before
Mmmm I'll come this way again
So many things remind me
So many things inside me
Sometimes your eyes remind me
Don't know why
I'll wait a lifetime till you find me
There are times
Mmmm I've been this way before
Mmmm I'll come this way again
So many things remind me
So many things inside me
In another life
When the gods were crazy
And complaining all the time
And the people look at me
The volcano wants a bride
And I'm still afraid of fire
Sometimes your eyes remind me
I don't know why
I'll wait a lifetime till you find me
There are times
Mmmm I've been this way before
Mmmm I'll come this way again
So many things remind me
So many things inside me
Mmmm I've been this way before
Mmmm I'll come this way again
So many things remind me
So many things inside me
I don't really believe in past lives but...some things that happen that stop you in your tracks and say "hey wait a minute..." - deja vus, flashbacks, or even someone you meet that stirs up unexplained yet familiar feelings. But I know if I did have past lives, I would want to keep every shred of memory and every little memento I have.
"So many things remind me..."
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