Memory jog

I hate it when I get flash backs, it just cascades over the reality I’m in. I mean who doesn’t right? You’re just going about your business, then suddenly something or someone jogs your memory and BAM! Instant emoting… Although that doesn’t apply for all people (yes I’ve met people who have lived a happy life from birth till now) but it especially applies for me. The things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt, the mistakes I’ve made… I don’t want to be reminded of that.

But sometimes, just once in a blue moon, I’m reminded of a happy memory. Most of these rare cases are memories from my childhood. And I must say I did have a happy childhood. A perfect one even. I mean who wouldn’t be happy living in Europe right? lol.

I was with my mom, as always, and we were on our way to Eastwood. It was very surprising that my mom suggest we’d go to Eastwood for tonight. But anyway. The traffic was terrible on the way there. It was just stop and go and stop and go. Then a really huge trailer truck thing carrying who knows what or who passed by. And each time it would crawl to a stop, the brakes would squeal (or something like that) and the same goes for our car as well. But then something happened. There was just this one time that truck stopped, and when I those brakes go on, I remembered London.

I remembered the train rides I used to take with my mom going from Cobham station to Waterloo central station. Although I can’t remember what I’ve seen in the trip, I do remember however the things that happened inside the train. Those beat up seats that had holes in them and the foam would be spewing out of it, were so uncomfortable. The handrails were just ordinary handrails hahaha the overhead luggage shelf thing was made of wood though. Then after a while, a guy would come up to us and ask for our ticket. Although I don’t remember what he looks like, he was most probably British :)) I remember those really inconvenient windows I always tried to open as well.

And after a while we’d arrive at Waterloo central station. I’ve never seen so many trains in my entire life. Though I would expect Thomas the tank engine to be at one of the stations :)) sadly the British never really looked into developing talking steam engines with faces that were done by a Japanese kabuki make-up artist.

The other thing I remembered was walking along the busy streets of London. The sound of the brakes of the truck earlier and the smoke from the exhaust looked and sounded like those tall red double deckers and the steam that came out from underneath the manhole of the sidewalks. If you’ve seen those movies where they shot the busy streets of New York, that’s it.

These weren’t bad memories. These were the memories I had when my life was still perfect. Although these were good ones, it left a bad taste in my mouth. But it’s more of a bittersweet memory so to speak.

It made me wish I could go back to those days. Those perfect days, that perfect life. But living such perfection.. I had to pay the price. And I did. I did pay, and I paid it so well.

I know I can’t go back to the perfect life I once had. I can never go back because, well my father left, and he was the one that made it all possible. His cash gave us the canvas, and we painted our paradise.



All my memories, happy, sad etc., depresses me in the end. The only thing that makes me feel “happy” is the present. I don’t know what the future holds for me, so I can’t have my say on it. But unfortunately, a fourth of the time I spend is basically looking back at my past. I don’t choose to do so, it just happens and I can’t stop it. It sounds stupid, I know it does, but I’ve always been like that. Call me idiotic or a “non-let-goer-of-the-past” but… It’s just not possible.

I hope that I won’t be reminded of the crap I’ve done in the past, or the happy memories that I have, cause it’s just gonna get in my way of fixing my life.

But if this is some sort of test… well all I can say is, I’m constantly failing. It’s either that or I’m just escaping from it (which is pretty much the same thing as failing I guess)

Fail me all you want Mr. Memory, but I’m not going to give up. Life is sooooooooooo much more worth than just the bullshit of my past life. I swear, I will get through this.

I made a promise


2 thoughts on “Memory jog

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