it always secretly shocks me how much my current life echoes my childhood, how my decision making resembles me as a child, some memories are so distant yet so vivid, i sometimes refuse to believe they had been real at all...they seem so real that i can not only relive them in my mind, but can also remember each of the times i have relived them... therefore even the most distant memories can be relived just... yesterday    

memories that over whelm me in so many degrees... the longer i live, the more i reluct the idea of sharing them with others, the uniqueness of my experiences..

but, i don't believe our lives are as unique as they appear on the surface, every element of our memories come in different forms, but they come down to the same elements, similar amount of each element...joy, sorrow, loneliness, anger... who am i to pity myself more than i pity others? my life doesn't need to be told anymore than others' need to be heard

 i see my naked myself as a child, struggling in the interaction with others, expressing my self-centeredness to its full potentials, my greed, my laziness, my craftiness, my fear and the fragileness of my pride... like looking at my six year old brother, looking at him angry and crying for being lectured, we shared half of our genes, he is partly a 12 year ago me, to feel his anger suffocates me as my old, unleashed anger, i look away

       and my experiences, the environmental factor, childhood friends, who validated me, and grandfather, who gave me my first and only impression on humanly love, for which i am still struggling to find in other men

genes and experiences cannot be any significant in me, one without the other, only with my genes, i have interpreted the physical world to what i call my experience, and only with the physically environment i'm in, my genes are able to express the many sides  of their potentials   

   my genes and experiences define me.. like how they define the colour of my skin and the accent in my english

 but, if no one was there when i was child and at every later stages of life, how can i explain? but then again, my life isn't important enough to be explained

how i feared this unimportance as a child, the fear of living and then dying in absolute silence.. how i struggle to make changes for remembrance, i still bear this fear, i fear my past forgotten by me silently without a trace... i fear the end of a movie, when there is always a song, concluding... when all the joy and sorrow that i so recently share all become pictures of various degrees of gray... and the realization that they no longer...matter

i feel that in life..when i listen to a slow song accompanied by the piano, when i look out the window... and feel the shadows of my past, hitting me like the undercurrent and i'm the drifting survivor... they all feel like picture of gray...so uniform, so external, they no longer display individual significance...only the notion they once had been so important... i fear their lost of importance... because i fear to cancel what i have once so much believed, things like my childhood anger, and my obsession in newly met men, they all once seem so perpetual

i was very angry and very obsessed many times

when life strikes...some people search for solutions everywhere and this ability to search makes them feel more strengthened...but others search for a balance inside, possess the ability to internalize... buddhism

   chaos can be internalized as peace