Memories aren't records; they're interpretations

My mind is an infinite source of thought.

& I realized today that I do not write them down nearly as often as I should. I need to preserve my present and give my future self something to observe and interpret from an entirely new perspective. I need to experience, record, and ultimately learn later in life. Only this time around, it won't be the diary of a self-conscious twelve year old girl, filled with arbitrary crushes on boys who remain in my memory as a mere name, not even a last name, and maybe a fuzzy face. But those encounters were far less thrilling and meaningful than my current position in life. Two years of college are rapidly being left behind, and the next two years are perhaps some of the most important months of my life. I hate that I didn't write about more moments these last two years- wonderful yet ephemeral moments with incredible and intellectual people. Of course, there will be certain things that don't possess the ability to leave my mind. I will forever hold onto some quite vivid and prodigious experiences that Oglethorpe has provided me with. And as for the other memories that will inevitably fade, leaving my mind with only a vague interpretation of what was once a certain and seemingly infallible record, these memories have their purpose too. Perhaps it is best that our minds learn to let things go. What was once an exhilarating childhood experience, like riding a bike in the neighborhood or selling lemonade on the sidewalk, is now only a thought, not even a memory, but a miniscule recollection of the fact that it probably happened. But if these were the memories reigning supreme in my psyche, then I fear that other more recently made memories would only falter and never even get the chance to reside in my subconscious for a while. It is in our nature to forget. While the brain is excessively powerful, it is not, and never can be, perfect. Our capacity to hold certain information alters throughout our lives, and I think that in an intense knowledge-seeking environment (such as college), our minds must learn to let a few things fall behind in order to make suitable space for myriad novels, essays, papers, presentations, speeches, and yes, the dreaded final examinations. Still, I find both beauty and terror in the act of forgetting. One day I will remember things the way I want to, and not necessarily the way they occurred. But that's okay. If anything, that will be refreshing, and liberating! Growing older, losing more and more of my past life every day, will somehow make getting old easier and far more appealing. Once I reach the point in my life where I look back on what I have accomplished, ruined, changed, learned- and I only find happiness (no regrets or distress) in my ignorance of all the 20 hour work days, parking tickets, failed tests, drunken frat house nights- this will be a blissful time for living. And as for the memories that I know I will always want to keep, I should probably start writing them down. Anywhere, on anything, at any point in time.

Well then, Life, let's get goin'.