There are a few places that when I visit them, I am flooded with memories of my past. That old church where I used to take karate classes is one of them. I sat in there tonight, and it smelled just like it did the first time I set foot inside the doors when I was 14. I sat down, and on that screen that I imagine is inside my head, the memories of who I was and what I'd done in that church started to play without ceasing.
Things are so different now... Kassaundra has a baby. Neither of us do martial arts anymore.
I started deep cleaning my room today too...I found old letters, old journals. And it was like a walk through my past. Like I jumped into a time machine, and watched out the window as every place I'd been, every person I'd had a relationship of some sort with, whirred past. I'm still reflecting. I'm still processing. I'm remembering so much more than I want to remember...
Isn't that always the case though? My mind tends to think about whatever it wants to... It likes to remember things that I'd rather let fade into the depths of my mind where I'll never see it again. That'd be too nice, so it doesn't happen.
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