I wonder if it has to do with moving around so much at a young age. If you count pre-school, I had been to eight different schools by the time I got to high school, not to mention moving from Indiana to Puerto Rico to New Jersey. My first diary entry is me at 9, having just moved to Puerto Rico, listing everything I missed about Indiana.
I can still relate to the me that used to be. I remember how I thought at 6, at 10, 22--my timeline is very clearly demarcated in respect to age and where I was at the time but it almost folds over on itself, because I'm just me.
Yep. Totally. My parents come to me now saying "Don't you see why we did [whatever stupid parental thing they thought they had to do]?" and I say no, I still take the position that I held back then. I still remember exactly how I thought and felt and why. Just because I was 10 doesn't mean I was stupid.
My memory of "me" as the same person I am now begins when I was seven or eight. The first time I saw Star Wars and the miserable year of third grade. I remember my life continuously after that as myself. (Before, I remember bits that feel like myself, but lots that feels like generic six year old Southern Indiana Catholic schoolgirl.)
I always study them; I think about those people, who they were, what their lives were like, what did they want, their families, how they got on, were they cookie-cutter citizens or modern, independant thinking women trapped in the frock and petticoat covered bodies of their times.
I totally do the same thing. I think about what life was like in the past, and how people felt, all the time. I'm always thinking about the amazing people who must have lived, who are now totally lost to history, and how everyone I love and admire will eventually end up the same way. Um, it's kind of depressing, actually. I think about a world where all the art I've loved is gone forever, but then, that world will have it's own amazing art that I'll never know about. Life's a cycle and all that.
I've never shared interests with people for the most part, only sort of just shared space until I was bored or out of obligation or whatever. This past year has been so wild in finding people who enhance my life and have the specific strengths which will allow me to grow as an individual.
Awesome. I was in that situation when I was younger, but when I found people who shared my musical interests as a teenager it made such a huge difference. It means so much to have people who share those powerful, meaningful experiences with you, people that you grow together with. I'm really glad we got to know each other this year!
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Date: 2004-10-15 08:55 pm (UTC)I wonder if it has to do with moving around so much at a young age. If you count pre-school, I had been to eight different schools by the time I got to high school, not to mention moving from Indiana to Puerto Rico to New Jersey. My first diary entry is me at 9, having just moved to Puerto Rico, listing everything I missed about Indiana.
I can still relate to the me that used to be. I remember how I thought at 6, at 10, 22--my timeline is very clearly demarcated in respect to age and where I was at the time but it almost folds over on itself, because I'm just me.
Yep. Totally. My parents come to me now saying "Don't you see why we did [whatever stupid parental thing they thought they had to do]?" and I say no, I still take the position that I held back then. I still remember exactly how I thought and felt and why. Just because I was 10 doesn't mean I was stupid.
My memory of "me" as the same person I am now begins when I was seven or eight. The first time I saw Star Wars and the miserable year of third grade. I remember my life continuously after that as myself. (Before, I remember bits that feel like myself, but lots that feels like generic six year old Southern Indiana Catholic schoolgirl.)
I always study them; I think about those people, who they were, what their lives were like, what did they want, their families, how they got on, were they cookie-cutter citizens or modern, independant thinking women trapped in the frock and petticoat covered bodies of their times.
I totally do the same thing. I think about what life was like in the past, and how people felt, all the time. I'm always thinking about the amazing people who must have lived, who are now totally lost to history, and how everyone I love and admire will eventually end up the same way. Um, it's kind of depressing, actually. I think about a world where all the art I've loved is gone forever, but then, that world will have it's own amazing art that I'll never know about. Life's a cycle and all that.
I've never shared interests with people for the most part, only sort of just shared space until I was bored or out of obligation or whatever. This past year has been so wild in finding people who enhance my life and have the specific strengths which will allow me to grow as an individual.
Awesome. I was in that situation when I was younger, but when I found people who shared my musical interests as a teenager it made such a huge difference. It means so much to have people who share those powerful, meaningful experiences with you, people that you grow together with. I'm really glad we got to know each other this year!