blue ink #16 - (How to Make Memories)

The keys were jingling. Dangling on her right, a mesh of silver bells. The almost-cheerful sound didn't quite fit the gray pavement we were standing on, much less her. Not very tall, waring a somewhat dull overcoat and other dark-colored garments which were almost too dull to remember. Which is why I don't. Black curly hair tightened back into a greasy pony tail, though her hair wasn't actually that shiny.

And then her face. Perhaps the most animated part of her, being able to sometimes make various facial expressions, though somehow still with an intense and severe air. I watched a few feet away as another teacher came up to ask her something, and she nearly bugged her eyes out, pulling them tight and wide and exaggerating her mouth, as though it were a daily exercise. This only lasted a few seconds and then she barked a few French words out in her constant melancholy tone. I got the feeling she didn't really like her job.

Turning back to us, she lifted up her left hand and with a bored expression, glared at her nails briefly and returned them to her pocket. Her face looked almost like a toad, actually. Or maybe some water creature. Dark skin, grave expression. I noticed a slight glint in her eyes as she then drew in a breath and parted the thin lips of her mouth.

She yelled a firm French sentence to the lot of us. Drew in another breath and yelled further orders. It wasn't such an aggressive yell; there weren't many of us. But then she inhaled again, still with that dark look and then my ears seemed to already ache as though knowing she would now unleash her fiery French dragon shout. But no, it was a false alarm and she remained at the same volume.

We then hesitantly lumbered up to etude, where most of us had 3 straight hours. Which actually I don't really mind, except that I'm missing an English class. And I was rather looking forward to it.

Man, time goes by fast. It's already Friday. And then it'll be Monday and I'll have to start the grueling week all over again. Sigh. But then it'll be Friday again. And this'll continue for only 15 more weeks. Or so.

I can remember back in those late 2008 months and looking at a calendar thinking I'll never get to "Mars" (French for March). I mean, it was like another planet. But then here we are.

You know, everyone keeps saying (talking) about how I'll remember this in college and later and life and all that, which is true of course unless I get memory loss or something. But then it occurred to me that, like, I had a lot of "power" right now. Well, you guys do too. Because it's like.. I'm living in the present, naturally, but knowing it'll be the past. But think about it. So, I'll look back on this year especially (probably) and I know it'll pass, so..

I mean I guess it's hard to explain. But it's almost like... controlling your memories. Controlling your past. But because of the present. Uh oh though... this is sort of sounding like 1984. But not really because I'm not changing the past. I'm not deleting it. I'm just sort of living in the present, future and past at the same time.

Take, for instance, me writing this blue ink. I'm imagining myself blogging about it in the future, knowing I probably will. I am still writing it though. I still am. But it'll pass; it'll become a memory. I know, I am aware and conscious that what I'm doing RIGHT NOW is actually the past. But also the future because you will probably read it. You're not reading it RIGHT NOW. But, ha ha, you are if you are, and right now is now. But when you read it, it'll be... then. I will have written it. It will have passed. But I'm still the only one reading it right now.

So, maybe it's bad to live life knowing things will just end, but it's easier to go through hard times like that I think. And it works everytime.

Lift up your hand or something. If you're reading this, and decided you would in fact lift up your hand, then you know it'll be next; the future. So, (if) you're doing it- the present. Then you put your hand back down and it's the past- seemingly at the same time as the present. Impossible.

And then of course, even as you read this you know it'll end and then it does and it's almost like you didn't. Those next sentences are memories.

Yup. "Once"-in-a-lifetime-experiences, for ya, eh?

(See? You finished reading. This is the past.)

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Turns out I accidentally skipped English class; the teacher was there. Woops. But it was a complete misunderstanding and only like 8 people showed up. Whatever. It passed.