chair: how did i end up here
memories, retrospect, hindsight. these cerebral relics of the past will either make or break me. lately, it seems as though i’m leaving imprints in other people’s memories but retaining none of it for myself. let me tell you though, technology can be your best friend or worst enemy when it comes to wanting to remember (or begging to forget) certain things.
i don’t like waking up and checking my phone to see if i’ve said anything stupid, embarrassing, or hurtful. on nicer days, i will see that people texted me fun times, good night, and so forth. on bad ones, i would visibly flinch at things i wrote directed to very specific people. even worse is when you wake up to an empty log. half of you want to believe it was an accident that it got cleared, but most of us know it takes a couple of confirmations before the shameful history can be erased. this is one of the rare moments where i miss the days where people just called. drunken calls and voicemails can at least be put into their appropriate context.
do i even have the luxury of feeling this bad these days? i mean, i said and did things. i was fucked up. but it was me nonetheless. there’s no compromise. i can’t just go out and have fun and end things there. i want to remember all the good feelings, but once i get to investigating why i had such a good time, i’m finding out things I don’t particularly remember saying or doing. welcome to Blackout-ville. how may i not help you today?
so it’s goodbye to dignity, hello to insecurities and utter remorse. i can only piece so much of the puzzle together with what bruises appear in the next few days (right now i have eight new ones since tuesday evening, some spots are still tender and others I’m not able to see without another set of eyes). the investigation usually backfires when people laugh and the only answer i’ll ever get is “you really don’t remember?”
it sucks because i remember it being so much fun. i guess it’s time to embrace fun as a fleeting sensation, but it would be nice to have some solid memories to go with that. can’t just squint my eyes to make things appear clearer—there is no optical illusion in this except i can't/don’t know how to distinguish between what actually happened and what was just an embellished thought i mistook for reality.
i probably deserve this. what person runs around punching and kicking people (half of whom i just met that night and whose living-room-turned-dance-floor i was being crazy on) and calls it fun? from the looks of it, i inflicted more damage on myself than anyone else. sigh.
“hey, did i fall on my head? it kinda hurts”
“well, after reviewing the video…i think you may have a few times”
“there was a video?!”
damn. reading this post over was like vomit on my ego. i swear i'm not so obsessive all the time and am able to have a good time, sometimes, maybe.. ? ugh.