Just a thought.

I find myself remembering the status-quo of my past way too often. It's a scent and it takes me back, way back. And then I'm trapped longing to remember more, I inhale deeper and live the moment in my mind as I'm trying to live in the present. I get lost in the nostalgia of my young but long life sometimes. My senses are alive but they rarely allow me to recognize the importance of now, more often, they catapult me into yesterday.

Friday nights I drive through a town that is filled with history. Although it is an old battle born city, their history isn't what I think of. The streets I choose to drive on are along some of the places I once lived. Park street was where I became a fearful child. I lived there for three years. Which at the time was the longest we had stayed put anywhere seeing as my childhood was unfortunately nomadic. In that apartment complex we resided in two separate apartments and in each different lives were had. I've yet to step onto the property pushed away by fear, but I am tempted. As I travel I pass an even earlier childhood home lone mountain. In high school I discovered that one's drag name is of the first street they lived on and their first pet. Call me Panda Lone Mountain. This residence is where my siblings and I were babies and forever left with the haunting memories of abandonment as I drive by. At the corner lies a preschool though it wasn't always a typical preschool. It once was a Montessori school for students k-8. Awkwardly as it sounds the age range dynamic did make a difference on our education especially because it was Christian faith based. Praying to Jesus before class started was quite an experience. It makes sense that I never developed social intelligence attending a private school whilst moving around a lot. The drive inflames several different inquires but I continue to take the same path regardless.

I used to be afraid of my memories. They brought pain and hurt, but no longer. Today I grasp a memory for as long as it can last. I crave to know what my mind remembers because when I tell people about the memories my 3 year old self captured they envy me. Little do they know that I envy them. It would be nice to follow my journey and live for each moment without being reminded of another.