So, the August Carnival theme is „doubt“.
German version here.
Sometimes, I have doubts that I belong into the elusive society of aces, and most of those are due to memory, which is more treacherous than I would have liked to believe when I was a student.
By now, I’ve forgotten more stuff learned at school than I remember, I know that. Just recently I was appalled at how bad my Latin has grown in the past 12 years. (*waves at Fiammetta, who helped out*) Also, when comparing notes with the only friend I have left from high school, we regularly hit incidents she or I don’t remember, and things we remember differently. Also, memory tends to gloss over things – already my stay in Uzbekistan this spring has taken on a rosy sheen, despite the full culture shock that I can read about in the journal I kept.
Adding to that, I, and most people, like to create narratives of their lives, to give a string of random events some sort of consistency, to make sense of what happened back then and tie it to the current state.
I’m sometimes unsure if I can trust myself with those memories of myself as a teenager, when I now try to understand those crushes I had. How much of a wish for sex was really involved? Did I really never dream about having a husband and children like other girls supposedly do? Do I now rationalize the wishes for the future I put into the yearbook of 2001, or did I actually assign a different meaning to „family“, as I now believe?
I can’t quite be certain. Most of the time I try not to think about it, and I think taking copious notes will never be amiss, especially when travelling.