Today.

May 10th, 2010

I realized that my life has gotten to the point to where some of my memories seem to be a stranger's. It makes my brain quiver and my skin crawl. I never thought it would be like that when I got older. That the memory of them would slowly fade with time. I never thought I could have experienced such depths of joy and sorrow. I never could have imagined all the girls who would be mine for a time. That's the part the young me couldn't even begin to understand. If any of us look back on our youth, then look at who we've become, did any of us think we would become who we are? I don't think it likely. I've been running through old memories all day, today. Just so I can keep my memories, mine. It's a strange feeling. Is this the first sign of age? Or was it that some of it traumatized me, so that they had to seem like someone else's? I don't know. But I don't like it either way. My memories are mine. I want to keep them that way. Yet I find that I'm slightly uncomfortable with this long strange road at times. Where will it lead? I can not even begin to fathom. If I've changed this much in almost 21 years what will I be like in another 21? Will I still even be myself? Dear God, I'm rambling. Thus I'll run off to bed, as I have to work tomorrow/today, and leave you all to my musings.