Memory, Misery, Mademoiselle

Since time immemorial, humans have tried to understand what memory is, how it works and why it goes wrong. It is an important part of what makes us truly human, and yet it is one of the most elusive and misunderstood of human attributes.

Neither is memory a single unitary process but there are different types of memory. Our short term and long-term memories are encoded and stored in different ways and in different parts of the brain, for reasons that we are only beginning to guess at.

Sadly for me, I have a really short memory. I’m forgetful and sometimes I can only recall a small detail. There are times when I can remember some events but, usually, I won’t remember day, dates, time or my wallet.

However,

I remember your smile. I think we’ve spent 3 years laughing everyday. Or did I remember wrong…?

Things aren’t always easy for me.

It’s never easy actually.

I saw myself in the darkness, in the corner of and empty room. I remember feeling nothing inside. I remember hurting a lot of people. I remember what I’ve done to myself. I am not proud of these stuff. Never.

I was depressed at some point in my life. For yoh who don’t know what it feels like… It feels like you don’t have anyone to trust. You wake up every morning, do what you have to do, laygh when people joke around, smile, talk to people. These stuff won’t make you happy. You do it because it’s what you have to to everyday. You laugh yet you feel unhappy. You feel sad. You feel like you’re not needed.

  

   
             

Depression is a sad thing. It hurts. It can kill people slowly. 

And it won’t go away.

We can say that we survived one or two but, one day it’ll come back and we have to fight it. Like fighting diabetes. You know what do to do but, when you stop even for just a moment, it’ll come and haunt you.

  
This is SKY. 

She was my friend in senior high.

After seveal years… She got sick, miscarriage, and a few days later… She’s gone. I was home. I was there.

And when it happen…

I got no one.

My mom… Well… She’s not… She won’t understand.

She just laughed at me.

I was miserable. Crushed.

And there’s no one in this world I could talk to.

It’s just “Rest in peace” and “deep condolence” and “Be strong”

I ain’t that strong.

My vision blurs every time.

  

“I hate goodbyes.”

Have I told you about someone important to me?

We’re always together in junior high. I don’t remember well so, I can only say that I was happy.

But, I was always this… Lonely kid… Anxious. Insecure. Troublesome…

Teachers kinda have special treatment towards this kid.

This person’s my partner.

I hope I never gave’ em trouble.

  
This…

Mademoiselle…

I lost contact with this person in senior high. I’m not good at this keep in contact, small talk and shit. It’s not me. 

  
Back to the point…

I lost my only light.

My senior high moments… Hmm… If you look at it, I seems… Happy. I laughed a lot. I smiled a bit. I talked to people. I was active. 

  
Last time I went home, I still hang out with some of ’em.

Years passed.

I forgot how we got in contact again. I’m just really glad that we did.

“Loving you heals me.”


I’m glad that you’re still you. You’ve grown into a very beautiful person. I’m glad you’re still the person I love.

You’ve helped me through the valley of death.

You helped me fight my depression. 

You make me laugh everyday.

You make my day a lot better, brighter.

I’m grateful.

God sent you in my life.

You’re the worst angel.

I love it.

Let’s have fun, we have 29 years.

  

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One thought on “Memory, Misery, Mademoiselle

  1. What a great piece of presentation. Memory is either visual or auditory. It seems like I remember the depressions and bad times more than the good times. I do not know if memory is a genetic prediposition. Sometimes, I think our environment is screwed up. And that may cause memory to remember some things and not others. It sets up unrealistic expectations. It is an addictive and crazy environment. Our memory seems to align with our addictions. That is what is unfortunate.

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