For some odd and inexplicable reason, I googled my e mail address. 3 things came up, which was surprising enough Im telling you google's arms reaches everywhere!, last of which was an xanga link with a user name which looked very familiar, Albahr. A friend I had in Middle school had given the name, her name was Rozanna and she was Palestinian, I had quite an admiration for her character. It means the Sea in Arabic, which is the meaning of my name in my native tounge of turkish. I liked it because it sounded like Bahar, which meant spring (as in "the season") in my language, and only good things can be associated with Spring! So I took it, and declared it my Xanga name. Xanga was the facebook of the dark ages. Everyone had to have it just for the sake of having it.
Back to my fortunate discovery, I was curious to see what I had been like in 2004, only 4 years ago, and what I had been interested in enough to write about it. I was curious, and excited because I had always wanted to keep a diary but I never had, so this was my chance to get a little sneak peak at my past. Well all I have to say is OH DEAR LORD! I am so disappointed at what I saw. It made me sad to see what an empty headed little child I had been. What's even more tragic is that nobody had the audacity to, im not quite sure how to word this, to basically steer me in the right direction. I know that everybody's right direction could be a different way and maybe they didnt want to interfere with my life or be responsible for my decisions incase they turned out to be wrong. And I suppose its more then partly my fault.
How could I have known? I deleted them one by one. Yes, it made me miserable to read about my idiocity, and although I regret who I had once been, I am glad that at least I can look back and see the difference. I hope that I can look back four years fom now, and read these same words, and yet again see a huge difference (hopefully without less of a disappointment and without experiencing a heart attack).
Another thing I noticed was how much humans forget, and what we remember. So many great things happen, and we remember so few of them or at best with a foggy vision, a blur of movements and sounds. Yet the horrific things, the things which oughta be forgotten and forgiven, they are excruciatingly clear in our minds with vivid details, and exact tones and words of the voices and faces. Its sad, but true.
I think this is the one thing I will do different with my children, if I am destined to live long enough and have chilren at all, I will encourage them to read more and to definitely write more. Not to diss on how my parents raised me, because I would not change them for the world (most of the times), and seeing how I turned out. I just think keeping a diary is more important than people realize. Its storing your memories safely away, yes this is so, but its also discovering one's self. Its gets you thinking and you learn more about yourself by realizing what you really think. You reflect your mood and your enviornment, the time period and effects of events in your life through your writing, and it is certainly the most interesting thing to be able travel back in time to see how you have changed. To see progress and become happy, or to see regression and fix yourself. So, whoever believes that time travel is impossible, Im afraid we will have to agree to disagree.
Thats all for now.
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