Hidden gems
In general
you know too much time has passed when
full names are employed to recall memories
this is where jim ronson broke his left toe on the curb
like gas station lines stretching back to academia
like trudging in flip flops on a Wednesday afternoon
like energy drinks on the walk home
like more energy drinks on the ride home
like their strawberry milkshakes are better
like a reunion that never happened, obviously
like the miniscule details that tickle nostalgia
like the shape of instant messages
it was a different time you say
who were you really
Spring often brings about bouts of cleaning in an effort to make things new for the season. Flowers in bloom, weather warming, and the long-lost optimism of the school year folding into summer. Unfortunately the weather has been a roller coaster here in the Bay Area, my allergies are in full swing, and this month actually marks 4 years since I finished grad school.
4 years since my MFA and as expected the pandemic has rendered that time a blur. I’m definitely not in that same headspace now by any means so it was quite the surprise when I uncovered work from 2021 in a random five star notebook while cleaning on the weekend. Cleaning then shifted into recollecting.
What struck me the most is that I didn’t remember writing any of these pieces/snippets/stanzas. I wrote something every day for 7 months that year and none of it immediately registered. Upon rereading, flashes began to play in my mind. Ironically, I started those musings in April 2021 in what I can only assume was an attempt to get back into a writing practice.
This is not the first or the last time that I will recover my work in forgotten filled notebooks or loose sheets of paper in a manila folder. But I’m hoping that I will figure out what to do with this stack. Revising or editing pieces like this feels like writing into different people. Yes, I created the pieces but who I am right now is not who I was when I quickly scrawled the lines down. It’s almost like finding a map that I created then shoved in a drawer. I’ve definitely done that with intention before but this time feels a little different.
Reviewing these constantly shifting phases of writing is something that I am trying to learn to appreciate. Instead of being disappointed in myself for not seeing these pieces immediately through, I’m trying to see if they still speak to my impulses now whatever those may be. A majority of these 2021 pieces were not written with a hopeful nature in mind. They were definitely attempting to carry me through the darkness that still permeates everything.
Thank you to myself two years ago for this tracking system. 2023 me is going to try to navigate the best I can.