Sunday, March 7, 2010

Pit Stop



I was about to publish two book reviews (Iggulden's The Gates of Rome and Collins' The Hunger Games) in my blog when I discovered that my next post would be my 100th. I wonder if there is cause to celebrate. If anything, it's a reminder of how big I am on rambling and how long I've been doing it online. God knows how many journals have had to endure my disabuse in the form of chicken-scratch scrawls, only to be tossed into the trash bin as soon as I've exhausted all their blank pages.

I'm not the type who keeps souvenirs of those events in my life that I'd like to remember: photo albums arranged in chronological order that can only be the trademark of neurosis, items with sentimental value like roses turned bone-dry and flattened between the pages of a huge volume or mementos of my children's firsts--- their first baby shoes, a lock of hair from their first haircut or, and it can't get any worse than this, the scab that fell off from where their umbilical cord was severed.

All physical keepsakes either yellow with age, turn brittle and crumble into oblivion, or simply gather years of dust in a designated place of honor. If the sentiment is powerful enough, I find it ironic that an object should be necessary to serve as a reminder of its value. I like to let the emotions associated with a particular memory to simmer in the remembering, instead of yanked out of my brain deliberately and abruptly with the help of a material mnemonic. I like to remember emotions, not trivial details. If a memory is difficult to call to mind, it may not be as valuable as I once thought, and should best be forgotten.

My 99 blog entries are mostly ramblings--- thoughts that come to inspire and just as quickly drift away. A fair amount are memories, a lot of which still make me feel sad or vulnerable and refuse to leave me be. There is nothing to celebrate, but I'll pour myself a glass anyway. It has been a long journey for this mental wayfarer.

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5 comments:

gege said...

I'm neurotic then. I keep everything. A function of a brain that is very bad at retaining information.

No umbilical fossils in my filing cabinet though.

mental wayfarer said...

Some form of neurosis is always good, I think. But keeping everything? Your house should be on a continuous expansion.:)

pachuvachuva said...

Love love love this blog. I'm happy to make my first comment. :)

And oh, I keep things sometimes but I'm more fond of keeping friends. ^_^

mental wayfarer said...

Pachuvachuva: I'm happy you enjoyed it and that you took the time to leave a comment.Thank you.

phim hay said...

pak