Tag Archives: memories

Note to self:

I wasn’t aware it’s been over a year now since I’ve posted anything here. I haven’t felt inspired to write for quite some time.  And even though things have been hard for me, instead I’d like to write about someone else’s struggle.  I’m sure I will never truly know why things happened the way they did, but on some level I am deeply sympathetic to Park Bom, and 2NE1’s disbandment makes perfect sense to me.

News of Bom’s “drug scandal” (not what I’d call it, but what I think doesn’t matter in context) changed things forever for 2NE1. The criticism from people was unreal, and given the drug she had brought into the country was an anti-depressant, it’s obvious she was already in a vulnerable state of mind.  The group was put on hiatus, and eventually Minzy left the group entirely to pursue her own interests.  To think of what it felt like for Bom at this time is much like taking a look at my own life.  How could she not blame herself for this?  The whole world was looking for someone to accept responsibility, and well-intentioned or not, the things people were saying were destructive.  Destructive to her and her heart.

I know this because I’ve been there. Every day I combat my own feelings of my mistakes and my shortcomings, and I’m sure Bom does too.  But other people’s opinions weigh heavily on our minds, and even things that are said in support of us will sometimes have just the opposite effect.

It doesn’t have to be anyone’s fault that 2NE1 broke up. Maybe it was CL’s fault, and YG’s too. Their favoring her marketing and solo debut detracted too much from everyone else and made disbandment the easiest option.  Maybe it was Minzy’s fault.  Being impatient and unsupportive and wanting to distance herself.  Or maybe it’s our faults; Blackjacks and society in general.  Maybe life happened, and 2NE1 suddenly found themselves at different places emotionally.  Can we blame CL for having incredible potential?  Can we blame YG for helping her and focusing on her while the group is on hiatus?  Can we blame Minzy for being driven and not wanting to waste another moment she could be using to invest in herself and her future?  We can, but all the while Bom is listening and her heart is hurting, because at the root of all the blame is someone who feels there is no one to blame but herself.

YG has stated Bom was 2NE1’s undoing, and on the surface perhaps this is true. But maybe instead of blaming her or anyone else involved, we should just be accepting.  Accepting of 3 young women (shout out to Dara!) who are ready to face the world and make themselves proud.  And accepting of another young woman who has faced more criticism than anyone ever should, and recognize that her flaws are our own.  Does anyone know how this makes her feel?

We all make mistakes. We all feel inadequate.  We all feel flawed.

We are all Park Bom.


I keep good company.

I’ve spent a lot of the past 2 years worrying about how alone I am, and how alone I fear I will forever be.  It has debilitated me, it has depressed me, and it has isolated me.

A couple months ago, one of my precious cats starting behaving differently, and fell ill a few weeks ago.  And then a few days ago, her sister decided to try and pass a piece of rubber she ate months earlier and needed emergency surgery.

Between the two of them being out of commission, I feel more isolated than ever.  And my responsibilities and stress have increased ten fold!  And I’d just like to put into words the ways I’ve misunderstood my life over the past couple years.

1)  For as long as I have lived, I have relied on nostalgia to reawaken happy feelings and warm memories within me.  I become revitalized and happy and capable of making new memories to satiate future nostalgia cravings.

2)  For as long as I’ve been single, I have considered myself to be “alone”.

3)  For as long as I’ve been single, I have avoided embracing any happy memories, and instead have focused on constantly feeling as though everything I did would be more thoroughly enjoyed in the company of another.

I got cats because I was lonely.  And I haven’t been appreciating them for their intended value, or their ultimate role in my life since I brought them into my home.

I am in a relationship with my cats.

Since they have become sick, I have been feeling nostalgia.  I have been thinking of last spring when I replayed Twilight Princess and stopped to take videos of my cats curiously observing the t.v. screen or going places they shouldn’t and sassing me when I tell them to scram.  Not to mention the sounds they make that sound eerily like the Twilight Realm monsters.

I have been thinking of last summer when we played Animal Crossing for weeks on end.  When they would bat at my 3DS cord or take naps on or around me and immobilize my arms by resting their little faces on them.

I have been thinking of last fall when I binged on “Avatar: The Last Airbender” and “Digimon” on Netflix.  I remember having one kitty come running every time I kicked the covers over my feet so she could burrow deep down into the warmth of my blankets.  And I remember having the other kitty do anything and everything to escape whenever I tried to hoard her in our blankey nest.

I remember playing Paper Mario 64, GC, and Wii versions in a row just before Christmas.  I remember my Wii breaking about halfway through the GC version, so I had to go play it on the gamecube in my room.  I remember letting the girls into my room, normally a kitty-free zone, because I was lonely without them and felt bad knowing they were sitting at the door waiting for me to come out.

I remember playing Wind Waker HD and taking breaks to make tea.  And of course I remember my cats urgently running to supervise me, as they must know I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to tea!

My life is so incredibly mundane.  But I’m sharing that with two special little fur babies.  They are the company I seek.  They are the one’s who have sat by me, chirped with me, played at my feet (and with my feet!), and ultimately been the one’s to share all of my nostalgia with as of late.

I keep the best company.  I can’t wait for my babies to feel better so we can play more video games, take more videos, and make new and happy memories.

I don’t need a boyfriend.  I honestly don’t even want one.

Next on my to do list?  Force feed my brain Pokémon on Netflix while baking cookies with my cats.

Cosmic Dream Action

I’ve been very sad lately.  My heart has been barren and lonely.  My mind has been distracted.  Disoriented.

I’ve decided to try and keep in touch with my sub-conscious.  I’m going to keep a dream diary, starting tonight.  My ultimate goal is going to be lucid dreaming.

Why am I doing this?  Numerous reasons I guess.  I’ve always been a dreamy individual.  I frequently get lost throughout the day in thought, fantasizing about anything and everything, from mundane to fantastical.  There are many times I recall something that I’m sure enough is something I made up, until I start creating memories and convince myself that there’s no way that experience never happened.  I relive so many memories, and recant them to people who are in them only to have them look at me in confusion.  My memories are my own.  My own creation, my own fantasy, my own sub-conscious.

What is real and what isn’t?  What do I feel and what feelings am I misplacing?  I want to know these things.  I want to explore my inner self.

Ever since I were little I’ve contemplated my life and what aspects of it are real.  Is it strange to realize and accept that I am capable and potentially have created a great many of my memories?

I’ve always thought to myself that if I consider myself to be aware of something, it ought to not be true.  So if I am aware that I am a dreamer, if I am aware that I am a make-believer, then I am immune to actually dreaming and make-believing.  If I am aware that I am sad, than how can I actually be sad?

I don’t want to feel like I am discrediting my own feelings and my own reality anymore.  I want to know.


Often when I was little, I would wake up in the dead of night, positive that my bed were violently shaking even a nanosecond into my coming-to.  It was always startling, but it never felt entirely threatening.  Perhaps I will learn what such an experience meant for me.

Perhaps I will be able to navigate my life to the fullest, having found a deeper connection to myself and what I feel.

But to be honest, a huge part of me wants to learn to lucid dream so that I can relive and expand upon memories that I constantly yearn for.  So I can go back and spend another night with someone who remains in my heart despite all the time between us.  So I can visit my long-forgotten happiness by dreamlight, and slowly let my reality fade into the dissonance that was my sub-conscious.

Chasing memories…

The very first time I beat Paper Mario, I would have been 9 years old.  In fact, I didn’t beat it at all!  I watched my brother play it through, and saw everything through his eyes.  As a child, and even today, I learn and live and experience things through the eyes of those I look up to.

Rewind a few months and I’m in my best friends basement, being introduced to the game for the first time.  I’d only met him about a year earlier, but we were fast friends.  I spent a lot of time at his house, and he was the first person to interest my brother and I in console gaming.  I remember quite clearly that we were in our sleeping bags behind the couch in his living room, in front of the gaming television.  The lights were out and his dog, Lady, was draped across my legs.  My friend had only come as far as the first three Star Spirits when he introduced the game to me.  I remember, because when I first got my hands on that controller, Lady Bow was his newest partner and she instantly became my eternal favourite.  Presumably bored, or perhaps just taking one of his infamous “cat naps”, my friend dozed off and I spent the night speedy spinning around everywhere I could within the bounds of the Mushroom Kingdom.

I got the game for Christmas that year.  My insistence paid off!  My brother and I were exploring under the tree and he was tearing the corners off of every present to see what was inside when we slowly uncovered that papered “P” in the upper left side of the box cover and I became silly with excitement!

My only downfall as a young gamer was lacking far too much in skill and always relying on my brother to play all my games for me as I watched.  Not that I ever minded.  I got to experience the game first hand without ever feeling the stress of losing to a boss or having a game over, and listening to my brother’s sideways humour throughout the story only made the game that much more charming.  And when he beat it?  A part of me changed forever.

He said that night that–after beating the game, watching the parade, and staring at the fireworks above Princess Peach’s castle as soft orgel music chimed throughout the room–that he could listen to that music for forever.  That he wanted to never shut the Nintendo off, and to fall asleep to the peaceful melody.  And ever since that day I’ve been chasing that memory.  Maybe for him, maybe for myself, I don’t know.  But I would replay this game 6 or 7 times throughout the years since then, every time recalling the very moment he said those words.

Tonight I beat the game once again.  And I realize that, this isn’t the only memory I’ve been chasing.  Things I’ve experienced since that day many years ago that have left the same imprint on my heart have all been things I’ve desperately sought after in the years to follow.  And it sucks that those memories will never be recreated exactly as they were, but a part of me thinks that, in the back of my mind, this is why I’ve wanted children of my own for so long.

Someday I picture myself huddled in a mess of blankets on the floor with little versions of my brother and sister and I.  We’ll be playing my vintage N64, giggling and being loud…  We’ll be chasing memories, and I’ll know that “forever” kind of feeling once again.

I failed you and what could have been ours

Romance doesn’t exist in the moment.  It’s something that is perceived later on.  Looking back on memories and times shared together that have long since passed, you reflect on your interactions; the smiles, the surroundings, the way the light bounces off of someone and draws your vision to the lines of their body and their soul.  Romance is looking back at these moments and remembering fondly that your heart was somewhere other than your chest.  It was in the air, breathing in the hope and the possibility, only to ever exhale when you find yourself looking back; respiring life into your memories and surrounding them in a fog of adoration.

I’m sorry that I failed you.  I’m sorry that my romance has been your complacency.  I’m sorry that time has passed you by and the memories have forgone your heart.

I wish that I had been someone more for you.  Someone who had laid with you and contemplated, swam with you and discovered, walked with you and remembered.  I wish that your memories of me echoed the romance that mine do of you.  I wish that our time spent together hadn’t been spent so in vain.

I’m sorry that it made you feel bad seeing me so tense.  No more confidence.  What that must have done to your vision of us as one.  Me; your responsibility and your sadness.  And I was weak in mind and spirit.  Never trusting myself to be capable of maintaining your brilliance.  I see how the light of my romance was dusk unto your sense of hope and possibility.

I’m sorry that I failed you and what could have been ours.  My worth–a song of broken harmony to bide the luster of our memory–not forgotten, but denied exaltation in a lost fantasy that I could never fashion into your being.

Thursday, June 20th, 2013 — The next day of the rest of my life.

It has been one year since you left me.

My day has gone better than I’d expected.  I’ve been busy though, so maybe it’s just been a distraction.  In the year since you’ve left me, a lot of my better days have been due to distraction.

I’ve been thinking about writing to you on this day for the better part of the year now, and my heart has pulled me in many different directions, but now that the day is here, I’m really at a loss of what to say apart from… you broke me.  You really and truly left my heart and my soul in shambles.  Out of the past 365 days, I have only seen you on a handful of them.  And yet, I have felt the ramnifications of your past decisions throughout every single passing moment.

I am not angry anymore.  I hardly even feel flustered when I think about the opportunities you passed up with me in favour of someone new.  I remember being on the verge of working myself into an episode a couple of weeks ago, but the moment passed, and my day went forth.  That’s not to say I am no longer sad, or burdened.  Of course I am sad.  Your absence from my life will be a burden for as long as I love you, and the kind of love I feel for you never really goes away.  But I am not angry with your decisions anymore.  I am not angry with my current situation anymore.  And I guess that’s really as good as it gets!

I wish that I had the strength to reach out to you again and see what your life looks like today.  If I’d known back then what I know now however, I would have never been in touch with you at all since the day you left me.  I’m not over you, and reintroducing you to my life now would only stand to prove it.

I think I might start writing to you less.  Maybe even altogether.  I’ve run out of things to say to you, really.  It doesn’t help that you do not receive any of these anonymous letters in the first place.  Perhaps someday I will direct you to this site, but then I realize that’s not doing either of us any good.

If I could have done right by you… I think that I would have told you from day one why you could never be my friend–and for reasons so much more than just the pain of seeing you happy without me.  I just know that friendship is something I could never have attained from you after all was said and done.  In some respects, I feel like I never truly was your friend in the first place.  It wasn’t fair to put either of us through the same relationship we’d just been through only to have it sullied by a label far less sacred.

And that’s what my life’s struggle has been this past year.  Coming to terms with what I’ve known all along, but been far too terrified to admit.  I don’t want you in my life.  I didn’t want to prolong what was inevitable.  And now I understand that, no matter what we could have shared, no matter what I feel I missed out on, no matter what that second chance would have created, I would still be alone.  I would still have your back turned towards me.

The very first time I ever saw you, I was closing the door of your car as I tucked my legs inside and laughed at your nervous joke about my height.  The very last time I saw you, you were closing the door to my apartment as your nervous stare disappeared behind the crack of light from the hallway outside.  One thing has never changed in all this time, xxxxx.  I can know everything there is to know about you, and yet still know nothing about you at all.

For the first time, I think this really is goodbye.  The day you left me was the first day of the rest of my life, and today feels something like the second.

Coinciding with fate.

In the time that I knew you, I always found myself to be surprised by coincidences between us.  After awhile, I began to believe that these moments were not by coincidence, but by fate.

I’ve already come to forget many specific instances, but the impressions are still there.  We always shared similar memories of when we were young, we both enjoyed many things others wouldn’t understand–we were able to speak to eachother in a way that made sense.  That is why I struggle so much in my feelings parting ways with the memories of you.  I’ve always understood you as my fate.

I can even recall, almost every day we were together, that you would text me just as I were thinking of you.  Just as I were typing a message to you.  Even this past January, long after you’d left me, you texted me on a night where my emotions were so high and I couldn’t keep you off my mind.  It was as though you were experiencing the exact same feelings.

And it sucks that, even though it has been so long since I’ve heard from you, so long since I’ve seen you, so long since I’ve felt you, that I am still stuck with these coincidences of fate.


Futurama was always a show that you and I had in common together.  The holophoner, Fry’s dog ‘Seymour’, Leela’s parents and her past, Fry discovering his nephew’s grave–these were all sentiments that touched us.  They were ideas and feelings of our own expressed through something tangible that we could bond over.

On June 20th 2012, you left me.

On June 20th 2012, the final season of Futurama premiered.