A Distant Memory

Life is weird.
I don’t really know if it’s just me but sometimes I’ll just find myself sitting in some crowded place with a lot of noise only to find that it’s actually really quiet.
And before I know it, I begin to reminisce of the many things that have happened to me in my past. And surprising (and a little disappointingly) I remember all the things that I had really just wanted to forget. Haha. I guess some things can’t be just forgotten over a couple glasses of wine over a decade of events. Incidentally, I don’t even like Shiraz.
And before I know it half of it is already gone. Haha.
Today, the memory was that of 8 years ago when I had left a bag of half-eaten potatoe chips in the office of a QFI in a rather god-forsaken place down under. Strangely it still haunts me. Then again perhaps not so strangely since I behaved in a manner which upon reflection I would have never done so if I had been younger. And yet thinking about it now 8 years later it still irritates the hell out of me. And I find myself asking me over and over again. Why?
Haha. Why do i still remember? In fact I still remember all the silly things that I did as a kid and all the really stupid things I did in JC. Haha. I still don’t find them funny at all. I thought they are supposed to become funny when you get older. More than a decade gone I still find them more of a scar in reminiscence than a silly action done in my youth.
Ah. My favourite watch stopped. Need to go get the battery replaced again. Haha. The gang would probably chide me for having a quartz watch as something that I would keep. It’s quite a nice watch. And i’m sure that JT would certainly still remember when I first received it. A bit sad. A bit happy. A bit confused. Haha.

The other day I was back at my aunt’s and I found my old box of stuff. Reading some of the letters and “stuff” that I wrote when I was younger I must say that I don’t recognise my writing style and manner at all. I didn’t even think that It was ME who wrote them. Some of the thoughts and phrases where so focused (and unfocused) that I couldn’t help comparing me now and me then. It was so easy back then. Just go with who I were. Really remembered (haha maybe in a foggy sort of way) that I lived for me and it was the real me. Now, today, I wonder. A lot of times I find me,self responding and reacting before even thinking about what the response should be and then suddenly realising, “hey shit! Is that really me?”. Then comtemplating about what I say and do reactively I then start to wonder who I really am. Is it the things that I do spontanously without thinking (which unfortuantely happen to be things that I find I wouldn’t really normally do) or are they the things that I actually think about?

What makes a person a person?

Who am I?

Funny. I ask myself this question whenever I need to make a phonecall which I had wished I didn’t have to make. Just like the ones I had to do today. Haha. But once the conversation started, it was as if my subconciousness took over and directed how I should speak and react. In the right manner. Not ME. But rather how I should be perceived to be. (Perhaps) Actually, I don’t know who I am when the subconciousness takes over. I’m actually just in for the ride. It’s almost as if it’s like some kind of time sharing thingy that happens and makes me wonder HEY! who’s there?

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