I had dinner with two of my officemates from our IT department at the nearby McDonald's a while ago. The dinner was filled with stories of our highschool and college days. Each of them were taking turns, at times interrupting each other, mentioning all these good and funny memories of their past. The dinner was like any other dinner to end the work day really. But when I usually contribute and share stories of my own past, tonight I was just quietly listening.
It kind of dawned on me that unlike my 2 companions, I hardly remember much about my highschool and college days. I can actually say that I hardly remember much of my past in general. Just snippets here and there, only to be reminded of details of any specific past event through pictures. That's probably why I take random pictures from my phone for the past few years. Because once I see a picture from an event, then I start remember specific details.
Of course, I have stories to share of my past too. As shown during my good friend Gino's despedida party the other weekend. Apparently in my drunken stupor, I had a lot of stories to share Gino's friends. I ended up being a barrel of laughs with how I would tell each story. Gino mentioned that I probably wouldn't be forgotten anytime soon by the people who were there because of it. When I do tell what little stories I have to share, I usually tell them in a way that it ultimately makes fun of myself. Somehow, it sells to people you're telling it to purely because the butt of your jokes is no one but yourself. It actually gets mean if you incessantly poke fun of somebody else. I'm pretty sure if that night dragged on any longer, that I would've ran out of stories to share.
The truth behind it all is that with each chapter of my life, there is always something to forget. When I was a kid, I yearned to fit in and be popular, beyond just being a nerd. I was always bullied plainly because I was consistently getting good grades, with the accompanied lack of athleticism compared to most kids. Each country we moved in, only resulted in me feeling like an outcast each and every time. I never made long lasting friendships every time we move. By the time I did manage to make some friends, we would move to the next country. Thus the whole cycle would start all over again.
During high school and college, I can decisively say I still had the same childish yearnings. However, I was becoming less of a genius despite my efforts to study and do well. I still wanted to fit in, and during these times would do stupid things in the pursuit of gaining social stature. I was an idiot. And that stupidity continued well into my 20s. I only started acting maturely, in the true sense of the word, when I hit my late 20s.
I was kind of a "late bloomer", so to speak. I didn't really start enjoying life until I made my own money. And even more so when I moved out of my parents house and had rented my own appartment. So I suppose, my fond memories only really surround what good that has happened the past few years.
I won't go into a "huhuhuhu"/emo spree of why there are so many things in each chapter of my life that I would like to forget. However, I will say that there always seems to be at least one major traumatic thing that happens in each chapter that causes it.
These days, my only fond memories surrounds my band, fun times with my family or really good friends. And this only accounts for brief moments the last few years. The question that I ask myself is, "Is there going to be yet another thing that will happen, where I will want to forget even the last few years of my life?".
Life is what it is. There will always be something that happens that puts you on the bottom of the wheel of fortune. I live more for the moment than most because I'd like to forget what has happened in the past. Ironically, I do that in a state of apathy at the same time. Nobody really notices this unless I speak of it. If I don't say anything, the only indication of it... is silence...
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