Chasing the past always leads to disappointment
Chasing the past always leads to disappointment.
We create memories and try our best to make the memories as pleasant as possible. But we know the lessons we learned from the past; only a few of them will be good or great. Sometimes it takes years to form a good memory you can recall in dark times.
An unexpected moment becomes a memory that brings joy, and the expected journey takes us to the valley of nothing but pure disappointment. So to find the proper answer, we do make a list in our head of what works in the real world and what doesn't.
We treat pleasant memories as something that is obtainable again by putting the same pieces in the proper location. But we fail to realize; concocting a plan to recreate falls is a part of the expected journey. While the expected journey may leave us with decent memories, none of them will be as significant as it was in our heads.
The nightmare begins when we try to recreate them in our older years. We very well know it is a futile task to put the old pieces back together, hoping it will show the same old picture. Then we realize it never does; no matter how many times we shake the pieces, the puzzle always shows a different depiction of the picture we used to love.
Every day the task becomes borderline psychotic, yet we keep pushing ourselves to chase the thrill of the past. For some people, the constant theme of finding the past becomes their purpose till their dying breath. And some find themselves in the land of delusion, where they just pretend and disregard the objective perspective on the memory.
And some accept the failure.
The insanity of chasing the past slowly dies as we finally come face with the truth. A slow realization that everything we ever enjoyed in the past has already ended for a reason. As it reflects our lives, our mark, and our significance in the books of history.
Just like our lives, every piece of art is unique in its own way, even though it may be riddled with flaws. At the end of the day, every piece of art is as unique as the human beings who watch them. Disposable, yes, but recreate-able, No.
We may exist, but everything we did was a chance occurrence. A bit of luck pushed us through the hallway of life. From finding love to seeing your kids turn into an adult, all of these memories are based on hope and the fate of the world.
The reason we are breathing; is while, at the same time, people who are the same age as us or lower are dying like flies all around the world. Their scream never reaches us; as we lose ourselves in our own happiness, we barely have time to acknowledge the existence of others.
In life, we find how fortunate we are in the world. We realize these things can only happen once; we are fortunate enough to experience the wonderful things life has to offer; we can't ask for more.
