looking at the silhouette of the mountains under the twilight sky, I can’t see anything at all. I really can’t. I wish I could make out every branch and leaf on the trees clearly, but my eyes have their limits. I can’t help but wonder what I’m missing out. I’m a little sad over some things I will never experience, some sights I will never see, some lives I will never live. what’s it like surrounded by stars and shadows?
some things are better in memory than recorded physically. it’s just not possible to make it nice. you can’t put it down in words as a poem or a tweet, can’t record it into a video, can’t make it look nice in a photo. they don’t quite capture the moment perfectly. those candid, unplanned moments that you have to be there to get – laughing and singing over barbie world, finally bonding over lunch, guessing a riddle together – is all better as a memory. maybe that’s what some feelings are. someone should invent something that lets you store pure feelings and revisit them later.
most things, most thoughts, feelings, are only temporary. the snowboarding girls I was with the past three days – will I remember the three of your names in six months, two years, ten years? probably not. but it feels so important now. I feel like I have to remember, I have to record it. but in a few weeks, when I’m back home, it’ll just be a clutter of little notes that take up too much space. I always clear it out before it ferments to a nostalgic memory. I should stop being such a neat freak and actually let loose for a while