On the Divinity of Tissue Paper

sometimes i get to thinking about lativa and i wonder vaguely why i never wrote it down. why i never wrote every little detail down. its one of those things you simply cant just reflect on later, and hope to remember it all, b/c if you miss even one detail its like working on a jig saw puzzle thats missing one piece in the end. no matter how good the rest looks, your eye is first drawn to that missing piece and you wonder where it is, what it was, if you’ll ever get it back. and maybe its better this way, i dont ever want to forget a single detail. it was the happiest ive ever been; i remember as a kid thinking heaven should be the opportunity to relive a period of your life infinitely. but i wasnt sure which part i would like to be absorbed in forever. if heaven is the musings of a child, then i know i would want to be back in latvia. to relive that trip, from the first day waiting at the airport to being in the in n out. to just relive it over and over again. if i had any idea how much i was going to fall in love with those short three weeks, i would have wrote it down. would have kept a diary for every day and remembered every detail. but i cant help but think if i had been busy writing, i wouldnt have lived as much of it. maybe its better this way. i still am afraid of forgetting details. but a pictures worth a thousand words and i have plenty of pictures. looking at them im taken back, literarly taken back. soemtimes the background of a picture will jog my memory to the point where i swear i can see the building, i can smell the air, somehow fresher than any in the states, i can feel it too, its soft, i dont know how air can be soft but theres was. A taste to it, i guess if i gave it a taste it would be like those little red/orange flowers that you suck the tip of with the nieghbors across the street when you were little or maybe what i always thought the rainbow would taste like if you cupped it in your hands and drank. i can see there sunsets, my god youve never seen the sky until youve seen it in latvia. i can hear everyone and everything. the children; i do mss them. i dont even remember their names; it scares me how sure i was that i would never forget. one girl was named lasma (easy to remeber, she always wore purple or lavander which i thought sounded like her name) the blonde girl had two names, and there was another girl who i could tell would be very very pretty when she grew up who had the same name. the future beautiful girls frineds name was annabe, but i dont rememer the other girls name. oh, and then there was the little fat one, she was soooo cute. i remember the boys, leo, arvis, brennan, rolands, guntars, even davis (<i swear to god a future serial killer). theres so much i just havent thought about in so long. i want to rememeber a typical day. this is going to be near painful. just as i suspected, painful but so blissful at the same time. heres where justin comes into play. one of the hardest things about ever letting him go is his influence over that trip. i feel i sorta owe my whole enjoyment over there to him. i dont know if i could have loved it the way i did if i hadnt gotten over chris. he helped with that so much. if he hadnt been there, whos to say i wouldnt have just been depressed the whole time and missed everything? i equate that trip to him. how can i ever let go of that? its almost as if hes the last piece thats keeping it all alive. when he gone, the trip will be over, finally. but ive started to lose sight of where my life ended and that trip began; i dont know what it will do to me to have it finally, finally, be over. the worst thing is i think i know waht will happen; it will no longer be what it is right now. it will lose its magic. and really, tahts exactly what it has. a sorta of glow tinted with gold that makes you feel warm and you feel the electric current. not altogether unwanted but still enough to make you cautious of its power. it will turn the trip into just another trip. i dont want that, i never want that. so waht does one do?

sometimes i get to thinking about lativa and i wonder vaguely why i never wrote it down. why i never wrote every little detail down. its one of those things you simply cant just reflect on later, and hope to remember it all, b/c if you miss even one detail its like working on a jig saw puzzle thats missing one piece in the end. no matter how good the rest looks, your eye is first drawn to that missing piece and you wonder where it is, what it was, if you’ll ever get it back. and maybe its better this way, i dont ever want to forget a single detail. it was the happiest ive ever been; i remember as a kid thinking heaven should be the opportunity to relive a period of your life infinitely. but i wasnt sure which part i would like to be absorbed in forever. if heaven is the musings of a child, then i know i would want to be back in latvia. to relive that trip, from the first day waiting at the airport to being in the in n out. to just relive it over and over again. if i had any idea how much i was going to fall in love with those short three weeks, i would have wrote it down. would have kept a diary for every day and remembered every detail. but i cant help but think if i had been busy writing, i wouldnt have lived as much of it. maybe its better this way. i still am afraid of forgetting details. but a pictures worth a thousand words and i have plenty of pictures. looking at them im taken back, literarly taken back. soemtimes the background of a picture will jog my memory to the point where i swear i can see the building, i can smell the air, somehow fresher than any in the states, i can feel it too, its soft, i dont know how air can be soft but theres was. A taste to it, i guess if i gave it a taste it would be like those little red/orange flowers that you suck the tip of with the nieghbors across the street when you were little or maybe what i always thought the rainbow would taste like if you cupped it in your hands and drank. i can see there sunsets, my god youve never seen the sky until youve seen it in latvia. i can hear everyone and everything. the children; i do mss them. i dont even remember their names; it scares me how sure i was that i would never forget. one girl was named lasma (easy to remeber, she always wore purple or lavander which i thought sounded like her name) the blonde girl had two names, and there was another girl who i could tell would be very very pretty when she grew up who had the same name. the future beautiful girls frineds name was annabe, but i dont rememer the other girls name. oh, and then there was the little fat one, she was soooo cute. i remember the boys, leo, arvis, brennan, rolands, guntars, even davis (<i swear to god a future serial killer). theres so much i just havent thought about in so long. i want to rememeber a typical day. this is going to be near painful. just as i suspected, painful but so blissful at the same time. heres where justin comes into play. one of the hardest things about ever letting him go is his influence over that trip. i feel i sorta owe my whole enjoyment over there to him. i dont know if i could have loved it the way i did if i hadnt gotten over chris. he helped with that so much. if he hadnt been there, whos to say i wouldnt have just been depressed the whole time and missed everything? i equate that trip to him. how can i ever let go of that? its almost as if hes the last piece thats keeping it all alive. when he gone, the trip will be over, finally. but ive started to lose sight of where my life ended and that trip began; i dont know what it will do to me to have it finally, finally, be over. the worst thing is i think i know waht will happen; it will no longer be what it is right now. it will lose its magic. and really, tahts exactly what it has. a sorta of glow tinted with gold that makes you feel warm and you feel the electric current. not altogether unwanted but still enough to make you cautious of its power. it will turn the trip into just another trip. i dont want that, i never want that. so waht does one do?