kiwicomicdiary
kiwi comic diary
autobio comics for the curious bystander
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the patchwork quilt of memories looks different for each person. of different colors, of different thicknesses, of different materials. some torn to pieces, some lovingly used, some patched up over and over. i realized recently how little i know of my own memories. despite reciting my own backstory over and over -- this is who you are, this is how you've become "this" -- my individual memories came up blank.
in growing and becoming who i am today, i shed my hated past self and left all those times behind. i really had such miserable feelings, so i thought, i should just burn them to the ground, scatter the ashes so they can never be found again. and yet among them, i've surely destroyed some precious memories too, haven't i? the shielded bubble of self-pity, turning the varied emotions of daily life into binary black-and-white. it's easier to say life just sucked back then, and things are hunky-dory now.
i've found someone recently who cherishes their memories, puts them in a jewelry box and takes them out to polish. looks through their transparent sheen against the light. they can tell you everything about each stone, where it was from, and when. the people around, the kinds of looks on their faces.
how unusual... since when were memories that shiny?
but... when seen this way, they really are beautiful.
i was handed such precious things, such fragile vulnerable things. and when i looked at the nostalgic look on their face, i started to wonder... hey, what were my memories anyway?
still, i'm happy seeing those memories give you such great joy. it's funny, isn't it? you told me yourself; back when things were harder, looking at those memories was painful. yearning for time to turn back, to be around all those you've lost now. but now, it's different... like looking at a museum, reflecting. because the present is happy, and the future is hopeful, we can look back on things and think, it's ok, because i got here in the end.
i had been getting better over the years, climbing from the dark pit i had been born into. better, but maybe i wasn't quite there yet. maybe i wasn't in a place where i was ready to blow away the fog that hid away my memories.
now, though... perhaps i'm reaching that point. being in a place here, where i am happy and warm, where i am glad to be living at this moment. perhaps in this kind of place, i may finally dare to blow the fog that had filled my head, if perhaps those memories are still hidden away somewhere in there.
it's been 25 years since i've been on this planet. even now, i don't think i ever will be able to earnestly say that i'm glad i was born. sorry.
still, i'm glad i was able to find my way here. i'm glad that i was able to see some of those precious, glistening memories. from now on, please let me help you protect those precious memories with you.
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