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Cigarettes Taste Like Cold Cayenne Pepper (from Kenshi Yonezu's blog)
I was shocked to realize it had been five months since I last wrote a blog entry. [And actually, this is just referring to posting the lyrics to You Are Ugly.]
They may be mundane thoughts, but it really gave me a feeling of time speeding by.
What have you all been doing in the five months between last September and now? I don't remember much of what I was doing. Not to say I was doing nothing at all, certainly; I'm just not good at remembering it.
I've long had a lot of respect for people who could skillfully bring their memories into conversation. Whenever I see people linking the current situation to a memory of theirs, I'm awed by the ability.
Now, this is merely a supposition given I don't have that talent, but perhaps we could say this about those who develop such an ability (as opposed to those born with it). Whenever they encounter some minute occurrence in their lives, they imagine sharing it with some person or another, and what their reaction might be. "How would they react if I told them about this? Would it make them laugh? Would they feel the same way as I do?" They have these small hesitations in their minds. So they begin to simplify what happened to make it as easy to express as possible - taking the important parts of the story and storing it somewhere safe in their head. With all this preparation, their memories are neatly organized and these events can be skillfully recalled.
Now that I've put that conjecture out there, I should note that acquiring any kind of ability happens when there's some purpose for it. And I believe the "small hesitations" I mentioned may be the most important element there.
In our daily lives, we have a terrible fear of things that would hurt us, and it can be very uncertain what those will be. But the primary culprit is the general worry of "Will I be accepted or not?", and this comes solely from ourselves. The more we question if we are accepted, the more we feel the footing below us shrink, and we imagine that we will misstep and fall. To avoid this dreadful situation, we aim to be accepted. If our efforts are approved, then our recognition as "accepted" is renewed. Humans are not particularly well-constructed, so this recognition will not sit in one place, but will differ between persons and go up and down, ever restless. Each time we find ourselves questioning our acceptance, we're feeling the need to renew that recognition creeping up on us. Rinse and repeat. This worry over acceptance can be such a meaningless thing, especially considering a lack of it is just how life goes. Yet this slowly-building, hesitating anxiety continues to spank humanity.
I didn't specify a subject - who one seeks acceptance from, or in what - as it could really be anything. From parents, from friends, from significant others - in religion, in art, in studies, in sports. Anyone and anything.
Thinking about this has made me worrisome that I'm quite an unfortunate person, who in fact has a dependence on insecurity. But that is an issue of attitude, and I believe, for now, that all strength has its origins in despair.
I started writing to keep myself awake, and now I don't know where I'm going with this. Does anyone want to talk about memories?
Posted February 15th, 2013