Monday, August 6, 2012

The Curse of the Memory

Waking up today I felt a renewed passion to sort my life out.  Starting with stuff that I still possess from university.

So straight away I extracted my old 'school' bag.  Having grown mouldy in my college room, I'd brought it home and dumped it, abandoning it, not wanting to go through the memories with the whole thing so fresh.  But now I saw fit to literally blow and hoover off the cobwebs, scrape off the surface mould, and delve into it's contents, making it respectable enough to throw into the trash.



Inside were old pieces of paper that decorated my life in 2008-2009.  Moments of idiocy, immaturity and lack of perspective.  And immediately I started ripping them apart.  Feeling a few years of memories being cracked and released with every tear.  And then suddenly it made perfect sense.  I should shred them.  So almost manically possessed I grabbed sheet after sheet and watched it be shredded in front of my eyes.  With every one my mind felt calmer and the smile returning to my face.  As if luck would have it though, during this much needed therapeutic activity, the shredder groaned, it shuddered, and it died.

I froze.  All the memories tantalisingly close to being rid of (out of sight out of mind) and now they're trying to haunt me.  I flipped the switch to reverse.  The shredder shuddered again, spluttered, shouted 'LEAVE ME ALONE' and died again.  I kicked it.  It was meant to be giving me relief not continuing to make my life hell!

And so it was then that I found myself with a tiny pair of tweezers, yanking every little shredded bit of paper from the iron jaws of this machine.  Pulling every memory out of the crevices.  Remembering every painful detail.  Until finally the shredder gave in.

My memories had a fight but now they're gone.  I'm putting my past behind me and moving on.

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