Thursday, October 28, 2010

Sometimes it's amazing to me, the emotions that occur when I look through a photo album. There are just so many things that can pop out from a photo that you didn't see before. For me, there are three kinds of photos.

1. The kind you remember: That tv only had three channels, sometimes four when you got lucky. That Rudolph doll was from Germany, it walked and played music and its nose lit up when you flipped a switch. The cat was really soft, but its limbs were stiff, you couldn't really bend them. The blanket on the chair was a really awful rough texture. And the chair...One time I had a dream that the floor was covered in snakes and the only way to escape them was to get on the chair, but I was too small and couldn't get on it. My dad was on it, and he kept reaching out for me but I couldn't reach his arm. I never did get saved from the snakes. I set up the camera to take that picture because I was always alone for at least an hour, sometimes two, after school and got bored.

But the worst part about seeing this photo, aside from the memories of my first house from when I was happy and part of a family that actually showed that they cared...is the foreshadowed sadness in my eyes.

2. The kind you don't remember: I know that this was taken in Germany. In my Oma's drawer. I apparently used to hang out in that drawer all the time. There are lots of pictures of me in drawers in Germany. In fact, there are lots of pictures of me in Germany that I don't remember. Age baby through 12...I have forgotten so much about Germany. I can remember everything about the cat in the above picture from how lose and how pink its nose is to how many gray stripes it had to the bent whisker that I tried to rip off. I have zero recollection of that doll. Or that kitchen. Zero.

3. The kind you don't want to remember: This may seem like a harmless photo. It's just a picture of some steel and a crane, right? Wrong. I would give anything to forget about 1997 and everything that went with this picture. I don't care if the person who took this picture were to die. I don't care if that person disappeared off the face of the planet. Literally, anything. If I could go back in time and change anything...regardless of any effect it would have on my friends, college choice, career, drug use, etc, I would change this. I would give everything I have now up, if I could go back and fix the feelings of being so alone and suicidal and unloved and all-around awful because of the person who took this picture. You can't even imagine what it's like to see this and think of the only two people you can say you honestly hate. I would've posted a picture of them, but somehow all the pictures of them disappeared in a fire I started with my lighter. The memories flood back and I get depressed all over again.

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