I had a horrible day so I took it out on cleaning. I cleaned the apartment, I took care of my sick mother, and before dinner I sat in my room and thought that I should get things cleaned up. It's the new year, after all.
I took out some childhood stuffs from big boxes in my room and began rearranging them. I was fascinated every time I opened those trunks. It was like finding a treasure of my favorite, most loved things from forever ago. Whenever I did it, I got glimpses of the girl I used to be - this little girl with teen angst, acute mood swings, but she was actually simple. She thought life was complicated, her feelings were intricate, her thoughts sensitive. She put her thoughts into words, as I found old diaries, beginning from the little books with latches of locks, hardcover books and hardbound leather journals, school exercise books made into diaries with colorful wrappers and personal mural cut out from magazines.. and I found lots of stories. I made up stories about first loves, I did so many murals in almost every journal book, I doodled, I drew, I chatted with myself, I told my books my deepest secrets. I cried, I laughed, I felt pain, I lost friendships, I was broken hearted, I was depressed, I was lonely, I was cheerful, I was fun.
It took me a long time to ponder on those stuffs. Memories are both bitter and sweet. You don't expect them to be good all the time. As I looked on, I knew I had been both hurt and happy.
In the end, I packed them up in little boxes neatly. I collected every single article I got published. I kept letters, cards and messages of love. I buried old manuscripts, which have been printed and sent to publishers. I took up stories, and continued printing sets of published items so that I could keep them as memento. I summarized my life in one closet space, filling them with good and bad things, because pierced together, they make me what I am today.
and I should live on. Create more memories.