1:42am in 日記

I envy minimalists and people who don’t attach sentimental value to objects.

I’ve always loved cozy rooms that are cluttered, so I suppose I am the opposite: A maximalist.

And even worse, I attach sentimental value to these objects as well. I fear that if they’re gone my memories will disappear.

Though, that is not true. They don’t disappear, nor cease to exist, but they are less likely to be triggered without this object in my life.

I know that the memory is in me, and not the object.

But I worry my memory is pretty weak for my age, especially seeing as many segments of the last few years have slipped my mind.

If I don’t have the object, and my memory is failing me, then how can I trust the memory will stay with me?

I can’t, but that’s part of life. We make new memories, we sometimes forget the old ones. Occasionally there will be a savant who really impresses with their memory but generally we’re all expected to forget things.

I comfort myself by reminding me that one day I will be dead and all of this will be for nothing.

I look at all the things I have collected over the years, all of the love and memories scattered across my bedroom floor.

All of these things that don’t mean anything.

Last updated April 17, 2024