I'm feeling those things tonight... What are they called? Umm...
If you want to very effectively put me in a half-broken with sadness, half sorta conscious of everything? Make me go through the things I hoard. I'm cleaning out the attic at my parents place, as I'll be living here for a little while and need a space for me to exist without feeling like a hobo, and I can tell you. I hoard, through them. There was So much up there, even after they cleared a decent chunk out. Old school binders and notebooks (from when my handwriting actually resembled that of a respectable adults, as opposed to the embarrassing scrawl I manage these days. Also, I knew math once. I really did.), gaming stations, stuffed animals and toys I used to spend hours making up stories around with my brother. Little scraps of the past, of my life. Things that have ended and past, and tease me. That's a typical thing, though, right? Yearning to return and do these things again.
Save points, bro. That's the one thing life needs. Fuck, I'd never have left my second year of college.
But, there it is. We move on. I did with each bit that was tossed in a discrete black trash bag, tied up, and set to go out to the trash. I give it a 4.3% chance that I rush down to the back porch and rip them open, clutching all those dusty relics to my chest whilst sobbing.
The thing that got me the hardest, which I didn't expect it from? My first cellphone. I know that sounds completely ridiculous, but you have to understand what that tiny combination of plastic and metal symbolizes. It's a portkey, but instead of just transporting over a distance, it takes me through time. That was college, when I still cared about it. When I was interested in my classes (to a point). When I spent hours on it, talking to only one person. I remember being completely conscious of how few minutes I needed, so long as I had unlimited time with at least one person. Remember the whole My Five thing? They could have set me up with a My One, and gave me 30 free minutes for other people a month. I started to text, and that was good enough for dealing with the rest of the world. Waking up to work out with Erick, remembering how he was the only other person with a different ringtone set up, and slowly growing closer to him. The little noise the thing made when it opened, and how it filled almost everyone with amusement when they noticed it. The waterdrop. Tost and Turned, when it felt so right!
Happiness changes, you know? Even then, it was different than the happiness I knew when I was a child, playing as different street fighter characters with my brother in our yard. That was happiness. Hours gaming with him, yelling and pushing. Not a hint of a dark cloud. But, later, oy. Everything was bright and exciting and right around the corner. Looking to the future, but with it as some strange, indistinct thing that you could mold with your mind. Nowadays, I sort of just accept the happiness I find. I have great friends. I have such major things just starting for me... Man and Camera, an easy career in hospitality that it looks like I could mold so easily into, a family that wants nothing but some of my time and an occasional call and hug. There are always dark clouds though. I recognize them and accept them, and do my best to realize it's just how life works. Things are very good, but sometimes I have to be reminded of it.
Growing up, amirite?
But, fuck it. Life is life. I think I'll be doing my best to finish up my re-write for that short film of mine. All this creative energy is flowing, and I should take advantage of it.