Core Memories

Gatsby, My Charlie Chaplin

Silly little moments that play on loop from time to time in your memories are your core memories and we do not choose what they are or when they come back to us.

They can be embarrassing, like remembering how once you where so in love with the idea of love through books and films that your understanding of the world was coloured by who you wanted to love you back. How everything they were interested in was something you must become interested in, in order to be loved by them.

Moulding yourself to be exactly what you thought they liked because all you've ever been told about love is how girls change for love (this way of thinking ashames me now and even still I am unlearning it).

When I was in my early years of secondary school I liked the kindness of a book worm who we'll call Gatsby. He read all kinds of books and not once did he ever show that his love for books should be something he was ashamed of. I found that endearing. So, I began reading books in form class, it did not last long however, because when a boy finds joy in something it is thought of as happiness brought by individuality, but I came to find that for the next couple years of my life anything I began to take an interest in was something to be laughed at(theatre, public speeches, choir, quiet music rooms in which I spent time to just enjoy myself, violin, math, art, anime, Asian culture, you get the idea).

I found myself giving up on everything that made me a happy person and becoming someone completely devoid of personality, forgetting to find myself.

Anyway, my core memory of him is being made to make a paper mashie hillside for a castle and a motte to be built on later for history class, possibly learning about the middle ages at the time.

We were in a store room layering the model with glue we had stole from the art rooms and younger me had a crush on him at the time. We were joking around and I found him quite funny, and I like always have a intrusive thought mixed with impulsive behaviour leading me to bop him on the nose with the glue spatula.

I know...

I knew as soon as I had done it how stupid and how obvious I was and he was kind enough if not completely dense to pretend not to know (this being no direct insult as you may well come to realise that the author herself maybe one of the most dense people you may ever come across).

I think, I thought in the moment I was being cute and playful only to now feel the second hand embarrassment of myself from many years ago.

One of many instances you'll be glad to know and find out about.