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For obvious reasons…memory is an important part of each and one of us’ life. Our ways of life, our perceiption, our goals, our feelings, our emotions, and so on. What happens… if you lose this… important aspect of you? You have no memory at all. It’d be like living without a soul…just wasting the life away. No sense of purpose, no sense of goal, no sense of…sentimental things. How can you possibly live the fullest of your life without any memory? Like what many has said before, it makes you who you are. Without this distinctive mark, you’re no more than an empty vessel.

I can’t bare to think how my life would be without any memory. Those memory that I held on so tight despite the nature of it, despite that it still upsets me to this very day. It marks the struggles I went through. It makes me an individual (I hope… lol…). Despite how selfish this sounds, memory is the last thing I would lose. I rather lose my life than my memory. Without memory, there’s no purpose in life anymore… I mean, yeah, you still have materials in the world to enjoy. Money, games, sex, looks. But… I rather end my life.

Anyhow…no point thinking all of these when it’s not that bad yet. Well, hopefully.

Just another thing to wonder about… is memory something…tangible? or non-tangible. I mean, just say something (disorder, accident) caused the memory-loss. Once you heal it, or recover, will the memory be back? Is it stored somewhere in our brain, or will it be gone permanently? There are some people who, after an accident, decides to block out some part of their memory. Later on, they can remember. However, what about those ones caused by disorder? …


went volunteering at some place where they give out meals to homeless people. It was great actually, I guess, seeing another side of the society. The side that I dont’ see often. And then in the middle, some couple walked in. Began to ask if they want stuff, blah blah blah. The girl was quite nice in the beginning…she would say thank you everytime she asked for something… until I decided to reorganize my hair… I took off my clip, gathered my hair and reclipped it, then the guy looked at me and said “don’t tease me”, the girl pointed the middle finger at me and said something that ended with “cute bitch” … I got pretty offended. Think that’s the first time someone points the middle finger RIGHT AT me? and then later on when I served them their food while the guy was in the washroom, the girl was like “fuck you, get the fuck out of here”. and she was looking at some guy in the other table saying “what do I have to be jealous of, nothing” I’m just like “okay…” I feel sorry for her sorta… cuz i saw her crying in the middle of her meal… At the same time, isnt it sad that she’s getting all …w/ed from a 18yrs old? Blah I don’ tknow, she just shocked me.

Blah w/e she sorta destoryed the experience with homeless people, but still I think I’m gonna go next month. It’s so … disturbing to see that there are still … “classes” or whatever you call it withint these people that come for free meals. The guy I was talking to was describing the life that he’s going through and said “unlike those ppl that have a home to go to”. I didn’t know what to say. I mean whatever I say, I’m still part of those ppl that have a home to go to… And watching they leave… you wonder where they’re going after this. Do they have a place to shelter themselve from the pouring rain? Where are they gonna get their next meal? How do they spend their time? What situations made them become like this? Do they have families? How they do shower? … and so on. It’s sad how I can be crying about this today, thinking about the unfortunate, but the next day I’ll be normal again. This will eventually fade away…just like everything else.

Forever means forever to me. That’s why I don’t … say forever often. No matter how much I love the person… I’m not gonna mention forever. Once you say forever, it seems like a promise. … At least for me. And since I’m only 18, I admit I don’t know much what’s happening around me, not to mention what’s happening inside of me. As much as I woudl like to say I love you forever, i can’t. Cuz it’s something so uncertain. At the age of 18, there’s so much that can change… Promises aren’t made to be broken… Even though I dont’ mention forever… I still love you. And as typical as this sounds, I love you so much that I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. But the sad thing is… I know that when we do break up, I’ll eventually stand up and get over it. No matter how long it’ll take…… I’ll learn to enjoy life afterward…even without you. That…thought alone…scares me enough.

At the same time, I’m a hypocrite. Im not saying “forever”, since it’ll probably not happen… Sorry, I just don’t have high hopes. Yet, I’m saying “love”. But do I really know what it is? It’s only been a month. Do I know enough of you to love you? …

blah have this huge urge to cross out everythign i wrote in his yearbook. Blah, I still have this… thing where I hate my own words… I can’t stand reading them, they’re so… disgusting, and ugh. I wanna take a red pen and go over and cover the words I wrote. The words that I wrote when I was feeling down. Or…just rip out the pages.

As I stood outside of my own house, being locked out, everything suddenly seemed unfamiliar. It is the same sidewalk, same tulips, same stairs. Yet…it felt all different when no one opened the door for me even when my grandma was home… Just for a moment, it felt like I didn’t belong here. I’m not supposed to be here. Even if someone opened the door, they would look at me as a stranger. The friends I just saw 10 minutes ago weren’t real. All just an illusion created by myself.

Looking at a letter adressed to my grandma, the name seems familiar, but at the same time, a sense of…non-belonging rises. It feels like I don’t belong to this family… An outsider.

I was suddenly in fear of truth; as if I was living in an illusion. What if someone opened the door, looked at me, confused when I called her my grandma. What if I find out that the 18 years of life in my memory didn’t exist at all? that it was all created alone by me. Would I be able to accept it? Not really… Almost wanted to go to the park again, to run away from the house.

Now that I’m sitting at home, (safe in my own illusion perhaps), the sense of not belonging still lingers.

What if all the 18 years of life that I lived through didn’t exist?
What if the memories I call my own weren’t real?
What if my world collapsed on me?

What if you were schizophrenic?

(Written at 2 in the morning)
Yet again, typical entry, typical words and typical thoughts.


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