| Do you think it would be easy to try to catalogue your life? I think I'm going to at least attempt to do so...I mean, why not? When you think of all the small ideas and thoughts you have jotted down on a piece of paper, song ideas, pictures that run through your head, feelings you get when looking at someone, sounds you hear around you, the light that falls from above, the tapping of the keyboard, the carpet beneath your feet, pictures on the wall, moments from the past and so on, it becomes such a mess. And yet every piece of data will somehow figure into the next decision you make. All your attributes are somehow made up of experiences. Experiences can not only be remembered by words, but also objects. I personally keep many many objects from the past and store them away for god knows what reason. I'm sure my children or grandchildren won't even care about the piece of a toothpick bridge I built in sixth grade. These things were meant to be shared and yet I have them locked away in a chest under my bed in Lodi. They are only shared with the other objects kept in this chest, but I will hopefully change that soon. Why the hell not? It may make people understand me better, or it might just piss some people off, woh knows. But when I go home next, I'm scanning everything, or at least going to try. It will be intense. On a much lighter note, I sat in class today next to this girl who decided that both of the arm rests were in her possession and she could constantly run into my writing arm and fuck up my notes. If she had used the table that folds up from the seat, she wouldn't have this problem but instead she believed that keeping her note book in her lap and speading her elbows out would be a better idea as she fidgeted the entire class. I wasn't moving and she had to deal with my elbows...BOOM! I'm scanning a ton of polaroids now... |
| October 15, 2002 |