As March nears its end, I find myself constantly thinking about how I haven’t updated this journal this month. How very irresponsible of me. I’m sure my audience of a handful of souls is immensely disappointed due to my negligence. All one of you, at least, haha.
Things have been happening in my life. Reading through my last few entries, it seems that I have not yet formally mentioned all the new details of my present.
Before I ramble on, I’d like to mention that Root Beer and I have relinquished our intimacy since November 9th, 2016. I had talked about it in an earlier entry, but I had not stated the fact explicitly (to my knowledge). In some unfortunate event that I myself lose my memory of the whole ordeal, I would like to say Root Beer is not for me. Perhaps I’ll elaborate on him and my incompatibility in another entry, but for now, I’d much rather ramble of more current matters.
Last Tuesday, I lost my iPod. It was late at night. The sky had grown dark (and I was very conscious of its evolution). Rude strangers crossed my path and the world of sounds was cursed with horrid screams of hopefully intoxicated souls. Never before have I felt so… embedded in the stereotypical urban night. She is dangerous, merciless. In her, I lost my iPod.
It was probably 9:15pm when I was unknowingly stripped from my iPod. I am led to believe that I left it on the bus on my way home. Fearing the gloom of night much more than the loss of any of my possessions, my mind was solely focused on getting off the bus at the right stop. So you see, dear reader, I was trying to make out familiar figures from outside the window and not ensuring that my things (i.e. my iPod) were safely stored in my infamous bunny bag.
As I got off the bus, I felt completely engulfed in the night’s shadows. It’s strange, now that I think about it, how… absolutely paranoid I was. At every corner, behind every tree or fence or streetlight, I was looking for someone. I was anticipating a stalker, like a ghostly girl who would haunt me until I was in the comfort of my home. I was so paranoid, dear readers. Paranoid, I say, but perhaps I was merely scared.
I was scared to be alone that late at night, scared to be outside in the dark that late at night, scared to never make it home, scared that I was going to be captured by surprise, scared that something irreparable would happen to me.
In some sense of the phrase, I s’pose, something did happen. I lost my iPod (likely on the bus) and, at the moment, I have very little hope of getting it back. There was a lot on that iPod. There were a lot of notes that I never uploaded (mainly because they had not been completed) and many pictures of things, people, and places that I never shared.
As the day I would lose my iPod approached, pictures of No’C were being deleted. Pictures of Root Beer had already been deleted. I would look fondly back upon pictures of my dead cat, Skittles. I would read old notes and create new ones. Dear readers, it was as if I had known that I was soon to be parted from my iPod. On the bright side, I had visited precious memories before they went away. On the other side, if I forget them now, they will be gone forever.
It reminds me of my phone that stopped turning on one fateful rainy Friday. I feel like I must've written about it, but I fail to find the particular entries I have in mind. That phone was recently (within the last few months) revived and shortly after abandoned. That phone, my first phone, had been gone for years before I was reunited with its contents. The phone had become incapable of acquiring signal and, for a phone, that rendered it pretty useless.
I remember that I was rather sad when that phone stopped turning on. She had things like text messages from Root Beer, Number Nine, and No’C. She also had things like a game that I considered myself pretty good at (anyone remember Bounce?) and another game that I wasted countless hours mindlessly racking up points in (a typical version of Snake). Among these things, there were pictures of when I first found Skittles and pictures of this giant weed growing along a wall of my elementary school that just intrigued me.
I remember, too, my notes on that phone. There were snippets of songs that I thought were catchy, and roughly jotted dreams (the three days of flight dream was especially important to me), and life hacks for periods, and a wishlist of things that I wanted (like double-sided tape, AAA batteries, and Pocky).
I can’t remember how long it took me to get over the death of that phone. It was strange because I had hope that the phone would turn on. The realization that I had lost all those treasures was indeed delayed. In the case of my iPod, however, I had pretty much lost all hope immediately after considering the possibility that I left it on the bus.
Will I ever find my iPod again? Unlikely, but I’ll keep you all updated. It feels peculiar to be this indifferent about it. I mean, I’m not sure if I translated my indifference regarding the matter very well, but it’s true. I feel like I lost 4 years of my life and I’m fine with it.
It’s possible that the things I lost are no longer important to me. Hm… A better way to put it is that the things that matter to me now overshadow the things I loved (or wanted to love) in the past. A rebirth, he said, but I think it’s more like passing on to the afterlife. I’m in heaven now, if heaven is a place of happiness. I don’t have my iPod with me, but that’s okay.
Dear readers, did you know that there’s a man wearing a fox mask in heaven? A red shirt hangs nearby. There’re also a bunch of these peculiarly shaped glass boxes, around seven of them. There’s a couch in a blue room, but somehow I keep remembering it to be a purple room. Oh, there’s also an air humidifier, I think. Oh, and a million journals. Well, close to a million journals. It’s more like two and a half.
And all the days, they were longer
And the drinks, they were stronger
The words, we sang wrong
But the songs were remembered
And time just passed
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