Think Scattered

I think my mind is playing mind tricks on me. It want me to think I am lowly and not worthy of memories.

I forget. I feel dumb to forget. I mean its so simple to hold on to and yet now I always leave it go. Cotton, jello, microwave noodles, that cheese in a tube that is clearly not cheese: that's what I feel my brain is made of. 

I sit on my bed, into the wee hours of the morning. I see the stars twinkle and the sky lighten as it makes way for the suns reappearance. I know from the glow above my curtains that it is close to dawn. That its been hours since I should have gone to sleep. It makes me so mad.

I spend too much time in my own head. I'm an outward person usually and now I find that I reflect more and think of things more. I over think, maybe. But the past is so reliable.

Sitting cross legged on my bed, like I'm about to bust out a sick yoga move, I fall inside a memory as warm as it aught to be. 

A wok, big enough to use as a toboggan. All the neighbors. Kids. Frisbee. Duckduckgoose. Rocks. Chasing children. Eating hot, smoking stirfires. 20 cup rice cookers. New people. Old friends. Smiles. Wild asparagus growing the the 'marsh'. Playing Credence and Metalica songs on the guitar. More smiles. More laughter. Girlies giggling and eating ice cream. Summer.

Average day with the Pierces. Playing cards. Sitting on the grass. Smoothies. Plastic cups. Old table cloths. Big green marbled ball, bouncing off Amy's head. Laughter so loud and hard it hurts. Similes. More smiles.

Sitting. Just sitting and breathing in grass. And friends perfume. Just laughing. I hear just the laughter and the hard ground of the Field.

Football in the summer. Running in tights over the lawns. Teasing. Flirting. Smiling. Summer warmth. Heat. Classes to go to but we still haven't won. So much love. Hugs. Oh and body checking. But more hugs

Full contact duckduckgoose. Girls screaming. Circles. Smiles.

Running, just running. Feet. Hearts. Lame P.E. uniforms. 

Burning pop tarts. Seattle. Victoria's Secret. Perfume. A mess of clothes. And the feeling of more love than could fit in that two double bed room.

A basement. Two basses, a guitar, drums and an upright grand. Laughter. Strobe lights. Good rock music. Friendship. Just sitting and thinking. Strobe lights. Yes, it was a popular theme.

A classroom. Friends in a circle all laughing. Playing mafia for hours. Heat turned up to the max. Nachos. Smiles. You can taste the tang of dry heat and wet wool and love.

So many choir room lunches. Circles. Laughing. That's what she said jokes. Sandwiches. Rice crisp bars. Beautiful piano. Harmonies. Harmonies. Together laughing and growing friends. Harmony. 

Goodbyes. Hellos. Secerts. Girlfriends. Makeup. Tears.

Empty school dances. Heat fogging the windows. Cold outside. Smiles. Dancing. Drinks. 

Shakespeare. Summer. Horses and hay and sweet smells. Love. A true company, built with so much love. Prospero and I piling on the deck. Chain reaction. A tangle of love and strength and friendship and numb legs and arms later. A feeling of one. Warmth. Laughter. Fuzzy peaches and Mars bars and Grammas' snacks and costumes. Mustaches. Me and my half's costumes.

My sister. A beautiful friend who flew the coup to South Africa. Smiling and hugging me and holding me. Remembering how we were mistaken for each other in primary school. Playing Barbies. Making Christmas cookies. Lipstick to ward off brothers. Hugs kisses more hugs and forever we will be sisters. My other half. Forever.

A laugh. Infectious. A friend. Heart wrenching familiar. Saddening to remember and yet not. 

Not being able to say 'see you tomorrow' at the end of each day. Leaving for a weeks journey and ending up here 4 months later. There is never enough you can put into a goodbye. 

A beautiful girl. With hair to envy mine. A smile practically ear to ear. A musical crazy-child. La Senza and BoSho visits and bubble tea. Busking. Choir and laughing and hugs. Dating a bestest friend. We're tight. We were tight. If I could remember things would be all right.

Other scattered memories of friends. Whose voice is whos? Match faces, I know I can. Think Think THINK harder!!

I have scattered memories of all these things as though I saw them in a movie a great while ago and have forgotten details. Some things I remember as clearly as yesterday. But I have not forgotten you all. I will not. Because as long as I work at it and write down each day, the day will not die. It will not end. The day has been reborn in prose.

“Friendship consists in forgetting; what one gives, and remembering what one receives.” -> Alexandre Dumas Père

Think again if you think I will give in to a little thing called the now.