Reminiscing on Depressing Memories?


What to Think About?



The thoughts of reminiscing of good memories, is a pleasure, but thinking about failures or bad memories is depressing.

It’s better to take a couple of shots of whiskey, at least there is a physical cause, to the way you feel. Cause you will feel the same way for reminiscing of the bad memories, instead of the good ones.

Like a shot of whiskey is a good way to depress yourself, the same for reminiscing on bad memories… it’s bound you to depression, as long as you think about it.

01/02/2024 (2.2 years later)

I guess, I find comfort in thinking of good memories, instead of bad memories… it’s a wonder to find good memories, in a world full of bad news. The media is in charge of that, and it’s become good memories occupying my mind, from all the bad news in the world, with the constant wars in the world.

We all know that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza right now, and they see and predict a continuous war, that could go on for months, or until they displace 2.3 Palestinians, and run out of ruins to create with the destruction of buildings.

I see it as a waste of time, unless you want to learn about failures, and how to avoid them. War is the fruit of the proud and blind.

It’s walking down the lonely road of failures and losers… I want to find a well lit road of success, but it requires, that I sell my soul to the devil… well, that’s never going to happen.


Well, this has been, a day of discovery of how fragile in mind, I was.
I feel like I got kicked in the head, but it could be, I got too stoned.

Math was always my strong point, and after the stroke, I feel like I got kicked in the head, by each number I got kicked by… I go into a trance when I get presented with a bill.

The connections that were there before, and what was once steady, is now a shaky surface, and I get the wrong answer, more times than not.

It’s depressing, when you see your imperfections, and become proud and defensive, cause you know they are yours, and it depresses you.
Fragile nature of the mind, is a thorn in my side, and it hurts my feelings.

“And makes me bleed from the weed… I’m lying here wounded, and whining…”

I guess that would be the starting line of a blues song.


I just want to express, what we think about is our virtual worktable of thoughts, to build a way, a map of our surroundings in this life.

Ideas that seem impossible works out to be possible, with a little rearranging of ideas and priorities, and we can figure it out eventually.

Depressing thoughts are like sitting at the sewage pool, and asking why does it smell so bad… life isn’t meant to stink. You have to move back to nature to smell clean air, cause it’s what you dwell on, like sitting in front of the TV media, which is comparable to cesspool, and we are the filters that filter out the bad smells.

There is always residue left behind… bad odor stains.

We need a disposable filter for the brain, someone has to theorize that thought, and create one, if it hasn’t been done already. That’s for my guardian angel.

I’m talking with angels and demons all day, and sometimes I’m too blunt with the facts, and insensitive to others… which can hurt their feelings.

But I never meant it that way… I’m just a feather in the wind… going where I go, and it’s beyond my control… as it should be… Aborigines in Australia,  and some Native tribes here in the US, theorize that we are here only temporarily, and we must move on to our destinations… but whose to say that the destination isn’t temporary too.

I guess we’ll find out when we die, or go to sleep.

I just hope I have sweet dreams, instead of nightmares of horror, cause this world is nightmarish as hell.

I’m failing at every turn, and no one is coming to my rescue, except God, which should be enough for me, but God designed me for companionship, but my insensitivity gets in the way… mainly by my narcissistically’s fault.

Or by unfair judgements, caused by what I said, and it was taken the way, I didn’t mean it. Miscommunication of what I said, was taken in another way… I’m not social butterfly, and I’m more of a turtle… living happily in his own shell… but willing to fly too, and explore the world.

Like right now… I feel like I’m writing in my daily journal… and failing by making it public, instead of the keeping it private in the heart and the mind.