I woke up in a good mood. I didn’t wake up when I was supposed to. I promised myself I won’t put any pressure on myself anymore. And I didn’t. For a couple of minutes. I put on a song. I took all my nail tools. The auto-play turned on a dream pop song. It was beautiful. It took me back to my teens. When I was so depressed but I enjoyed myself most. How could that be? I have no clue. Sometimes I wish I could go back and ask her questions. It seems like she knew more than me. How did I forget all that stuff? Or am I delusional? It’s impossible to reverse anything you progressed, right? That’s what once someone told me. It feels like a line from a therapist. Or just Instagram reel. No one even knows the difference anymore. Still, I don’t agree with it. You can regress. It’s just some bullshit people say to themselves to feel better. Like it’s impossible to go backward. Of course it’s possible. I go backwards all the time. I go back to last week when I f* up that interview. I go to the week before when I saw that beautiful sunset luring from behind the clouds. I go to last year, when I was in such pain that I actually wondered if it’s possible to go forward from that. And, it was. Back then I went back to the year before. When I had all my friends together. We were all happy and without a care in the world. I’d like to think that I can feel the same someday. Until then... I’ll just go back to something else. Sometimes I do manage to be here. You know, “in the moment”. Being “present”. What does that even mean? I see it everywhere. Or maybe it’s just my algorithm. Well, let’s be honest. We are all on the internet all the time. What the algorithm gives us, that’s where we are. Sometimes I think it’s a good thing. You know, you don’t have to search through sites to find something you’d like. It's like saving you time. Besides, how would you even know what you’d like? Plus time wasted. This way is way easier. How does the algorithm do that, btw? Who knows… do I care? Not really. I rarely even think about it. But the algorithm, sometimes, it gives us dreams. Sometimes, it gives you reminders of who you are not. At the end of the day, it’s all perspective. Or at least, it could be. I choose to see it as a good thing. I don’t succeed all the time. But, I do try, that’s all I can say. And then I go back to something else. You know, three years ago, when I was slimmer and my face was cleaner. I see all these people, some of them from my school some from my neighborhood, grown-up. You can see it on their face, they feel good. Most of them don’t. That’s why they pass you on the street. It has nothing to do with you. They just hate themselves. Or, all right, don’t like themselves. You see it in their eyes, they wonder, where did their youth energy go? They were all happy and doing skateboard tricks or bought weird socks. Cool socks. The funny thing is, they think, life isn’t as good as it was, they aren’t good as they were. I am the same. But we all play dumb and lie to everyone that we don’t think that. In fact, we are far better than we used to be. But it’s so nice going back, isn’t it? Go back to last week. Go back to our teens. Go back to our childhood. We used to go camping. No one is camping anymore. I mean, we do but, it’s mostly where Instagram will take us. Which is not bad. It’s just different. Everyone thinks different is bad. It’s not. It’s just different. Can we just leave things as they are? I think I’ve heard that somewhere. Maybe that song from that band. Nah, it wasn’t that song. It did go something like that… that’s how the memory works. I read it somewhere. Nothing is ever like you remember it. But you still go back to something else, don’t you? “Being present”. I really dislike that saying. I mean, I’ve felt it, and it did feel good. But it was just for the moment. And then it’s followed by a huge existential punch in the gut where you realize you’re going to die and you don’t know when. You hope it’s going to be when you are really, really old. But sometimes you hope it’s today. It gets that hard. And how not to want to go back something else? There is no existential dread when you go back to something else. It’s just memories. It’s nice. It passed. No anxiety, no fear. It’s done. You know the ending. And you can edit whatever you want. Consciously or not. No one would care. Especially if you don’t tell them. Sometimes they see you and they know you are delusional. But they still don’t care. They just lose a bit of relevancy of you as a person. But do you care? Not if you go back to something else. “Be present”. Well, I am sorry, but I don’t want to “be present”. Maybe I will someday. Until then, let's play that song one more time.
