Mellen (absentmammoth) wrote,

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Smoke, stop signs, and sweaters...

These are the kinds of things that cling in my memory. And tonight I've been thinking about memories. Smells, sights and sounds...all bringing things back in my mind, but differently than before.

I have been a person who always says let go of the past. Yet, I myself have more than once clung to the rosary of pleasant memories I keep in my pocket, and yearned to get back there. I've tried to go back there. It doesn't work.

Just recently, it's started to make sense. Memories are a museum, not a home. Visit them, know them, admire or despise them. But when you're done, there is someplace else to go. And for the first time in a long time, I'm going someplace else. Someplace I don't know, but it's one I know I want to find out about. It's better to let the dust settle on old pictures than a new road.

I will always remember the smell of smoke, the sight of late night stop-signs, and the feel of comfortable sweaters. Still, more memories need to be made somehow...

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    i'm not dead, just boring.

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