I don’t quite understand it. If you don’t take a picture, does it exist? You know what I’m talking about. Those peoples that have to document every single thing they do to prove that it happened? I just don’t get it.
I guess I do, though, in a way. If I don’t write about it, it doesn’t happen to me. My life experiences. It’s how I stay sane. It keeps the memories for me when my own fading memory grows weaker and weaker. It forces me to remember things that I’ve mentally blocked out because they’re painful and hard and bring back things that hurt. It makes me see the good in memories that I maybe choose not to see today, or saw back then. It makes me re-examine myself and my life experiences in a different, more distanced way. It’s therapeutic and if I ever need to go back to them, I can. It’s why I keep two or three journals, but I’m not nearly as religious as some of my instagram, facebook, and twitter friends. How do you do it? How do you like yourself so much that you must get a picture of every single thing you do?
I don’t think I’ll ever understand that. I don’t want to see myself in every light. I like my self image and I like my privacy. I like to keep my every single look to myself. Private people are labeled with words like: “mysterious,” “weird,” “hipster,” “confused.” I don’t think it’s fair. Introvert is also a bad word today. There’s another argument building here, of course, but seriously! Documentation freaks me out. I’m not discriminating, really, I’m just trying to understand. I could never be so in love with myself that I need a new picture every day of whatever it is that I am doing, experiencing, or taking part in. It’s hard for me to want to see that much of myself.
On the flip side of this rant, I cannot wait to be home. I cannot wait to go home and see my family and feel that warmth of southern heat re-enter my heart. I can’t wait to hug every single one of my family members and hold them in my arms just a little bit longer than they’ll want me to. Family is seriously everything to me, and it’s been way too long since I’ve seen any of them. Seeing my mother leave me the day after Thanksgiving was so fucking hard for me. It was almost too much to bear. But I went home, hungover, and slept for 6 more hours. Eventually, I’ll get used to this traveling thing.