"..don't let your life pass you by,
weep not for the memories.."
weep not for the memories.."
Dear lonely isle,
We often wonder what lies ahead of us, but we can never know, till we reach our destination.
And sometimes, to find out, maybe even out of habit, we look back.
And therein lies our past. We look upon it as one might upon an old friend, or sometimes as one might upon a skeleton in one's closet. But no matter how we perceive it, it remains still a past. Our past. That which has already come to pass.
And try as we might too, there are just some things that you cannot forget, and still more you cannot remember. Some memories lie in an archive hidden away, locked, and far beyond our reach, though it still lies within us. Others we wish to erase, to deny its existance, but to no avail.
Why is it that we cannot forget those we wish to cease remembering, and why is it we forget that which we wish to remember?
Strong memories are never really lost, and though they may fade, many things may trigger its recollection, like a bubble rises to the surface. Strangely, it is all in our heads. Everything we have ever done, seen, touched, discover, or learned is all contained in our mind. We may forget them for a while, but should the right stimulation presents itself, we remember once more.
Sometimes maybe we shouldn't. Yet on other occassions we are glad for the reminder.
Still, it is but just a memory. A flimsy thread into a past that is lost to us forever.
But then again, maybe some things are better off lost.
love, joyce.
And sometimes, to find out, maybe even out of habit, we look back.
And therein lies our past. We look upon it as one might upon an old friend, or sometimes as one might upon a skeleton in one's closet. But no matter how we perceive it, it remains still a past. Our past. That which has already come to pass.
And try as we might too, there are just some things that you cannot forget, and still more you cannot remember. Some memories lie in an archive hidden away, locked, and far beyond our reach, though it still lies within us. Others we wish to erase, to deny its existance, but to no avail.
Why is it that we cannot forget those we wish to cease remembering, and why is it we forget that which we wish to remember?
Strong memories are never really lost, and though they may fade, many things may trigger its recollection, like a bubble rises to the surface. Strangely, it is all in our heads. Everything we have ever done, seen, touched, discover, or learned is all contained in our mind. We may forget them for a while, but should the right stimulation presents itself, we remember once more.
Sometimes maybe we shouldn't. Yet on other occassions we are glad for the reminder.
Still, it is but just a memory. A flimsy thread into a past that is lost to us forever.
But then again, maybe some things are better off lost.
love, joyce.
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