self discovery

i am a hoarder. i hoard things. i hoard old things, really really old things.

things that should have been thrown out years ago. things that my mum wishes i would trash. things that now smell stale, full of dust but also thick with memories.

blame it on my sentimental nature. i have a soft spot for my possessions. it’s not so much that they are my prized possessions (depends on how you define prized. my definition has nothing to do with monetary value) but rather the emotions that are branded with it. i am not sure how to explain it. but if you know me, you’d understand.

my cupboards and drawers and shelves and boxes and so on…. they are all filled with things i have kept to remember a certain event, occasion, celebration. yes i keep a lot of things. my mum calls it clutter but i just call it my environment. but clutter can get out of hand some times, especially when you have more stuff you want to keep. i had to make space for new stuff so yesterday i did some spring cleaning.

i emptied my cupboards, and threw out the stuff that i really have no use for – case in point: empty boxes (seriously. i don’t know why i keep boxes, and i’m talking about the packaging that comes with things i buy. like perfume, toiletries, chocolates etc). i showed no mercy and it was good.

then i came upon a cupboard stuffed with what looked like notebooks and journals. i took them out to read and i walked down memory lane.

i don’t really keep diaries but i do have notebooks that i carry around whereever i go. i carried notebooks when i was studying (duh. for notes in lectures) and when i travelled. i still carry one in my bag everywhere i go. you never know when inspiration will hit you. yes i am a huge believer of inspirational outbursts.  i have them all the time.

so the books i found, they were from way back. okay not waaaay back. but quite some time back. there were some dated 2003 all the way to 2006. i even found the notebook that i kept when i was in Brisbane for two months completing my print journ internship.

reading my past thoughts and going through what i was thinking back in the day – that was pretty nostalgic. it was as if i was reliving my past. there were scribbles about a really sweet and kind Taiwanese dude who fancied me and would do the sweetest things (like buy a huge bucket of chocolate popcorn because he knew i loved it). he had been living in Brisbane for about 8 years (again, it helps to have a notebook with facts ;p) and was living with some Singaporeans in a house they shared. that’s how we met. one of the girls on the internship with me knew the Taiwan dude’s housemates. anyway, it appears that i did not reciprocate the feelings but the entries that were closer to the day i was to come home showed that his efforts did get to me a little. it appears that i was moved, slightly. my present self finds it very amusing. it made me think how silly i was back then.

first of all, the dude and i hardly talked. i had to muster up whatever mandarin i could and he tried his best to speak the best english possible. it was quite comedic. we understood each other but other than the sweet things he’d do for me, there wasn’t much, although he was a great cook. haha.  to cut the story short, we both knew that i was going home and that nothing would probably come out of it. and indeed nothing did. i soon forgot him.

old things really make you remember stuff, stuff stuck in the recesses of your memory waiting to be taken out when the appropriate prompter culls it out. in this case, old stuff. old notebooks, old memories and old writings. that’s one of the reason why i love to read and write. words hold so much. words to me are precious and like poetry, when strung together artfully, can evoke emotions that stirs even the hardest of hearts.

words make concrete what some thoughts never can. thoughts are swift, thoughts are hard to catch and keep. fleeting thoughts become as momentary as a once a year birthday. words provide the stage for discovery. self discovery. discovery of  life and the great beyond.

we must discover ourselves,

before we can discover others

or the other.