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Who Knows?

E.T’s letter (empty ver.) – HEIZE

“He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.”

What a waste of flowers. To tug at the bright petals, waste their beauty on words that, quite honestly, never hold any true power. Don’t pretend it isn’t true. If you reach the happy end, you let a smile on your face and ponder the possibilities, letting something as simple as a number decide someone else’s feelings. You forget that it was by chance that you picked that flower, and that while we have a fate of some kind, no plant can determine it, nor the truth. Perhaps the fluttering petals that now litter the ground are just an excuse for the literer to believe whatever thoughts flow through their mind, perhaps it’s just the kind of mind game you play on yourself, a way to rationalize something based on irrationality. At the same time, if you end on a sour note, you are pulled back to your senses, and you strip the act of all of its power. You withdraw the magic you believed in just before it disappears forever, just before you see what you hide from. It’s a stupid game. A game that only ends with a fool and wilted stem.

Humans are kind of dumb, I’m not going to lie. We explores the depths in which we were never really intended to see, and we pick apart everything we find, and yet, while we’ve been gifted with speech, we keep our mouths shut, our thoughts hidden, our pleas silenced. We let the world dictate us before we dictate our worlds. We hand over the controller to everyone else who doesn’t have control over themselves either. And if you don’t fit this category, you’re an outcast, broken, rude, unrespectable, unloveable. Sometimes I wonder if people remember who they were before they had a line drawn around them, or if perhaps, none of us has ever really known.

I get tired of trying to know myself. I get tired of trying to understand why I am the way I am. Is it really just genetics, a certain series of neurons setting off, signals traveling through my mind? In that case, am I really just a sequence of chemical reactions? Is that all it is? Is that all I am?

It feels pointless. Every answer will just make me ask something else, a never ending cycle of the lack of acceptance. The lack of just being ok with what I’m given. Ungrateful I suppose. And yet, I don’t stop. “Why?”, you may be asking. Hell if I know.

“I love him. I love him not. I love him. I love him not.”

We don’t ask the irrationality to answer this question, even when we don’t know this answer. Perhaps it’s because we know, deep inside, that we won’t be satisfied with this mind game, we won’t see that magic that we let decide the facts of someone else’s life. We’re selfish. We are the complicated ones, the ones who’s emotions can’t be summed up to flower petals, even when it’s perfectly fine to use on someone else.

We want say that we are so much more than the facts that we’ve uncovered, we want to believe that we aren’t as simple as they make it seem, and it isn’t our fault. It isn’t our fault that we believe that we are so complex, because it feels complex, while in reality, maybe it’s actually very simple, just beyond our comprehension. Maybe we simply aren’t capable of having an answer. Maybe that’s why we pluck flowers. Maybe that’s why we stay quiet in the loudest moments. Maybe that’s why we keep asking questions. At the same time though, who am I to tell you this?

Hell, I don’t even know what the point of this writing is. I don’t know what I wanted to say, what I wanted you to get out of this. I started with something, but I’ve lost it in the moment. I don’t know. Take this train of thought of mine, and do with it what you wish. It’ll come and go, just like any other. Maybe you’ll find some magic in it, some understanding that is beyond me. Or, maybe not. I’ll let the flower petals decide.

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The Feeling of Remembering

I have this ability. It’s not unique or extraordinary, but it’s always present in my life. It enhances and changes things before my eyes, and fills me with nostalgia, as if I’m time traveling. I can feel memories.

According to what’s happening around me, my mind will summon an atmosphere, and will make me feel like I’ve entered a memory. I hope, with all of my heart, that I’m not the only one who can do this, because it’s a form of reliving the memorable, as well as the little parts of life we often forget. Unfortunately, I’ve never seen or heard anyone discuss exactly what I’m talking about, and perhaps it’s because I’ve never been able to properly explain it to anyone. Hopefully, this will change that.

Now, this is not to be confused with simply remembering or recalling something. I’m not talking about when you see something that reminds you of another thing. That’s just memory. I’m not talking about when you recognize a certain smell or taste and suddenly you’re thinking about the last time you experienced it either. Those distinguishable attributes are what invoke the thought. What I’m talking about has nothing to do with thinking, but is rather related to feeling.

What I’m talking about is when you are doing something where you feel no atmosphere, and then you suddenly get transported into a feeling of the past, a certain time where something very specific was happening. It’s like uncalled for Deja Vu, and yet you know exactly what it reminds you of, but there was nothing to trigger that feeling. You have the atmosphere of that time, and the mindset, and yet you didn’t do anything to make it happen. This is why I compare it to time travel. It quite literally makes you feel like the time has changed and that your doing a particular something. It’s one of my favorite feelings in the world.

Personally, this happens mostly when I’m working or studying. It could be in school or at home, but I have to be really focused. With my mind trained on something, I won’t feel anything, and then, out of nowhere, I’ll feel a memory. When it happens, I usually recognize the time period immediately, and I’ll know the specific thing I was doing at the time. Now, the problem is, the second you start to think about that feeling, it goes away, so usually it only lasts 3 or 4 seconds. If I’m able to clear my mind fast enough, sometimes that feeling comes back, and I can experience it again. It’s wild, and difficult to study, and it truly feeds my curiosity. It makes me think of things I’ve forgotten. Little snippets of time that pop in my brain every now and then, like flashes of light. I wonder what the actual term for this is.

I haven’t had this ability my whole life. I think it started a couple of years ago, but I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. One of the questions I always end up asking myself is why a particular memory feels a certain way. For example, the day before yesterday, I was working on a spoken word, and I felt a memory of myself watching “Fairytail” in November of 2019 late at night (It’s one of favorite shows, please watch it if you have the time to watch 328 twenty-minute long episodes). When I felt the memory, I recognized the setting. However, I also know that I didn’t recognize that feeling or atmosphere when I was actually living in that time period. Like, in November of 2019, I did not know that it felt like that. Do you see why I find this so fascinating now?

My current theory is that we aren’t aware of the feeling of the present, as we fail to recognize the way it shifts as we continue to live. As we exist, the feeling of the time is constantly changing, but because we are constantly exposed to it, we aren’t able to differentiate it. (I pray this all makes sense. It’s incredibly hard to find the words to properly describe this)

If I asked you to tell me the atmosphere of your life right now, you’d probably look at me funny. We can’t describe something if we can’t compare it to something else. However, if you are able to experience that sudden shift in atmosphere like I can, it becomes VERY obvious. It becomes so obvious that your brain will start relating other things to that time period, and will create an image in your head that basically acts as a collage of frozen time. Please, when I tell you it’s time travel, IT FEELS LIKE TIME TRAVEL, I’M NOT LYING.

It makes absolutely no sense when you try to understand what the reasoning behind is. How can your brain formulate something specific without a prompt? If anything, it makes me wondering if what I’m describing is literally “Day Dreaming”. Dreaming is the closest thing I can relate it to, simply because of its enveloping traits, and it’s spontaneity. That said, it also makes me wonder if this is healthy. Is my brain supposed to be doing this, or did I break it? Goodness, so many questions, and no one to ask them to.

When I actually describe feeling memories, it sounds incredibly cool, and I didn’t even realize it. Like, this post is way more interesting than I thought it would be. I wonder why people don’t talk about this phenomenon more often?

At the same time, I think this is as good of an explanation as I can manage. Putting these words to paper was much more difficult than anticipated, but reading it through, it definitely makes sense to me.

I don’t know what the reality is, but I really do hope people understand what I’m talking about. In fact, if you do, then PLEASE comment or message me or something. I’ve been looking for someone to discuss this with for such a long time. Or, even if you don’t know what I’m talking about, and you’re curious, then please start a conversation with me! I’d love to get into a deep conversation about this anytime. It would honestly make my day.:)