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Saturday, 31 August 2013

(lost) memories

i had wanted to watch the conjuring (not worthy of further mention) when it came out. then, i changed my mind because i knew the havoc my (over active) imagination will wreak on me all too well. 


some time later, my girlfriend asked me to watch it with her and after some internal debate, i agreed. we were having some smokes outside the cineplex before the film started when she asked if i was her #1 girl. 

i thought it was an odd question and i flippantly said 'no'. she was hurt and threw a tiny tantrum (sorta). after i apologized and soothed her ruffled feathers, i wondered aloud - what does it matter, really? i love you. after all, here i am, bone-weary after an exhausting day at work, and agreeing to watch a horror film at 1-bloody-am for you.  


the conversation continued and i told her (and I say this with utmost humility) that i have had and continue to have the great privilege and responsibility of being loved by a number of people. it might seem great, and i do feel blessed, but she must also understand that the more people who love you, the more the number of people you have out there to lose memories of you


it's not as desperate as it sounds. oscar wilde said that 'memory is the diary we all carry about with us'. people don't intend to lose memories. although there are some things that we would rather forget. 

it could be that the real sound of my laughter 

has been replaced by a new memory; 

or that my scent left my bedroom and my clothes
after some period of disuse; 

the scent that people associate me with, 

that they try so hard to remember, is altered. 

you can't hold on to all things forever, 
no matter how hard you grip them. 


our memories are very precious things to have. we can hug, kiss, laugh, and cry with them over and over again in our minds. 

smells of lost lovers: sweet perfumes and aftershaves, the scent of sleepy morning lie-ins or simply the inexplicable individual scent left behind in a room. personal smells as precious as the people themselves. 

(serves me right that i had a dream about #a that night -- in it, i saw the memory of my smile, my laugh, and me scrunching up my nose, leaving his thoughts. in the dream, he was forgetting me memory by memory. i woke up with tears streaming down my face, panicked and made a list of memories; and realized how futile and completely useless the exercise was.


don't ever forget me, please
anyhows -- off to my favorite resto slash bar in bangsar; with my baby sis and her maarten in tow -- but before that, check this out as i think it's quite cool - your lost memories; a virtual lost & found super 8mm office. toodles xx

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