Subconscious dumps

When I was young, I developed a peculiar personality of being forgetful. All my colleagues often knew me to be the employee who had a bunch of sticky notes around his office desk and monitor. The guy who mostly jotted down everything during a meeting, afraid of missing the important details. These acts helped me to cope up with my forgetfulness.

But little did they know it's just the tip of the ice berg. It was way more than that.

My forgetfulness goes in a more serious way of not only forgetting things, chores and task. It goes deep down to personalities and identities of people that sorround me as well, making me blind and clouded not seeing the "real" them. And of all the misfortunes, this trait didn't also spare my ownself from forgetting mine too. My own personality. My own traits. My own identity. I tend to forget them. The real me.

This might be the reason why the past couple of months, July and August, had passed my eye faster than I could ever watched. Days slipped on my everyday routine like sand in an hourglass.

So I paused. I asked myself, "Did I miss living them one day at a time?"

"Did I waste the days by overthinking instead of enjoying them?"

No.

I FORGOT them. They slipped into my memory. They weren't comprehended by my brain. They came passing in front of me but through my blind spot. I was clouded. I was out of focus.

I forgot the days' activities and got lost to my daily routine. Forgot what each days had offered for me to enjoy. Forgot to live each moment. Forgot to appreciate the simple things. And that includes forgetting who my real self was too. Again.

It took a huge courage for me to dive down to my deepest subconsciousness again. In search for something familiar. Or someone, perhaps?

This wasn't new. This wasn't the first time this occured. I am completely aware of this scenario. I knew what I needed to do. Nobody knew the real me the way I do. And from afar, I saw Him. There he was. I was completely correct all along. He was just there sitting at his favorite corner. The other version of myself. My real version. Hugging his knees, dead tired of all the current situations - plans that didnt work well, unmet expectations, unattained goals, distance of loved ones, alone and far from his comfort zone, all the pain in the asses one could ever take. I saw him. Resting. Fatigued. Exhausted. Tired. Wearing an expressionless gaze while sitting in a fetal position. Waiting for the right time when to show up.

I approached him and calmly asked "Where were you?"

He slowly replied "You knew I was just right here all along, right? Same spot. Where I used to be."

I asked again "Why?"

And he answered back "I was tired."

I was about to throw another question "Until when?"

but he slowly stood straight up after releasing his position while saying:

"But not anymore..."

.........

............

................

"Let me take over."

There is no need to say anything more then.

I AM BACK. HELLO, REALITY.

I ended up using tumblr again.

I started using the app 2009, after finding facebook a little bit too "social" for me and having a hangover from friendster which was just shut down during that time. But then instagram came and I found it more "minimal" to use so I decided to stop using tumblr. Never knowing it's just gonna be a Hiautus. Yes. A hiatus for 16 years.

Just to be exact, a disabled facebook and instagram account brought me back here.

So yes. As I have said, all my social media accounts were hacked and eventually deleted by META itself due to unknown f***in reason. They ended up being disabled without prior warnings. Social media accounts which I held for 18 years. The people, friends, acquaintance, pictures, videos, statements and reflections (in forms of notes which were always hidden to public views), life celebrations, occasions, milestones and memories. They were all purged.

So thinking further, several questions came flushing from my mind. Are they really gone? Are they permanently deleted? Banished into complete oblivion?

I found the answer is No. Their existence might be deleted online. They may be deleted from the cloud database. They may be deleted from my memories and so do from my friends' and families' too.

But never they will be from my subconscious. Our subconscious is what makes us. It is deeply rooted from within. From the deepest depths of our mind. They are still there. Present and lively. And they are the one which composed of who we are today. Our behavior. Our attitude. Our reactions toward outside stimulus. Our existence. Our perception through things. Through reality. Those are still in me. In my deep subconscious. In my own self. In my own genuine self. That's what makes me. And i dont need social media for me to define my ownself.

My own self-awareness is enough.

My own self is enough.

One of my top go-to books of all time about happiness, consciousness and optimal experience.

FLOW: The Psychology of Optimal Experience