Exhumed Graves

I know you’re all probably bored with my web entries by now,
but I just need to write for a little while. No, that’s not true, but I’d like
to write.

I’m almost on the verge of crying. It’s an incredible thing
to find memories that you’d lost. Things you buried away, by accident or with
intent, and then years later you find them all. Ever seen “Amelie”? It’s
in French, but it’s the best constructed movie I’ve seen. It’s a classic story
that you’ll only appreciate if you’re not watching it for guns, sex or slapstick
comedy. Anyway, in the movie she finds a box filled with toys that a little boy
buried about 50 years ago. She tracks down the boy and puts the box in a phone
booth. She rings the booth and when he answers, she hangs up immediately. He
finds the box with his photograph and toy cars and packs of cards and he cries.
That’s like me right about now.

I decided to clean my room because I didn’t want to do
homework. I hadn’t known how much crap I’d been hoarding. Empty files, mainly,
but a few drawers/folders full of paper I’d collected over the past three years
or so. I sorted these papers into relevance and use, and amongst them I found
some very special memories. A letter that was written to me by a friend whose
heart is well guarded, a letter I myself wrote to someone very special.
Stories, events, records, homework… By chance, I opened up an old folder with
Design and Technology reports in it, and I found sketches. Drawings I hadn’t
known existed. Ivy had drawn them, and I had taken them in Singapore and hidden them away in Australia so Eugene wouldn’t use them to blackmail me.

It’s amazing how much and how little I have changed. So many
memories of the things I used to do. The person I used to be. The persons I
used to know. They are the times I shall never get back, and they are the times
I will miss the most. -sigh-

I’m sorry for slagging certain people. A lot of people. Just
about everyone. I truly am sorry. I’d forgotten you were just pretending.
[PS: Ignore that paragraph. It refers to someone who won’t
read this entry, but maybe it applies to you too?]


4 thoughts on “Exhumed Graves

  1. Korelee says:

    It reminds me of a drawer I used to keep at my parents house and when I didn’t want to clean things up, I’d just put them in there. At the end of the year I cleaned the drawer out and found things that I had been looking for for ages, lol.

  2. Georgie says:

    OMG! you believe this but just today i found an old folder from Melba High and it was my Design and tech pholio! with heaps and heaps of pictures i and friends had drawn and i felt the exact same way i felt so sad that i couldnt get back those times.
    It’s also how ive felt ever since i moved to Perth…

  3. Ivy says:

    What’s slagging?

  4. John says:

    To slag: To spit.Slagging on: To spit upon. In this context, metaphorically. Id est (ie) insulting.

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