When I was in the later years of high school this idea started to sprout in the back of my mind that my intelligence, and rather overall mental composure would soon decline. I would write down all the memories of significance that would fleetingly return to me after years of being locked away without visit. A dream journal and an apple note with the first line titled "Mr Poppers Penguins" would turn out to become a document I would spill all my "core memories" out onto. And now there is so much ambiguity as to how much this prophecy has fulfilled itself. Was I emptying room out in my brain for a less plastic brain into my adulthood, or was I documenting something special to better remember it?
I remember after an oddysey of conflict and no discourse Sarah mentioned to me she already felt herself getting dumber. This was par for the course for her personality; another time she had expressed not wanting to live into old age which mortified me.
But then I started to feel the same. Often during covid I would wish I could return to some of the most basic of english or math classes to build a proper foundation for what would be the rest of my life. I look back to my works from even sophomore year of highschool which seemed worse than pedestrian. Yet that was when I felt like I was at the peak of my mental agility.
These days. These days I feel like I can hardly speak a proper sentance when there is even an ounce of social discomfort I'm facing. I imagine myself unable to escape my father's self-asserted image. "Tu esi toksai kaip as" Dad stuttering and incapable of proper social interatioctions set the example for me to be self-conscious of the same. This all feels so superstitious. I'm not sure if it's actually hereditary. I'm really trying to escape those constraingts if it's possible though.
Anuj is really the best friend I've ever had and I can say that for sure. Even when I talk to him though I feel like an idiot and I can't really say why. I wan't to get better. I used to think it was weed but really I just haven't been trying, just coasting for most of my life. Even with this journal. Certainly it's more than nothing, but I'm not putting huge thought in, really just writing what comes to mind. Reminds me a lot about those covid journals I would record.
I remember being in dainava and impressing those girls slightly older than Vilia with myself. And the same happened when I went to liepaja and mosedis with Rugile and her friends. But with those occasionally great times I also remember countless times being completely negative, antisocial and bad to be around. And still I psychoanalyze, deciding if it was my fault or just me and my sicknesses mixed with poor fatherly and sisterly influence and with the ambiguity its really just so hard to take accountability.
Tomorrow I wan't to write more about vermont last year.