These nights, it seems that all I ever dream about are memories from my past. Memories that I thought were long forgotten, and some that I thought I had forced myself to just forget about. It’s a little uncomfortable, a little haunting, but some of them are a little amusing. Am I dying? Flashback after flashback of my once crazy life are coming back around in weird ways. I’m not sure what triggers that part of the brain, I should probably do a little more in-depth research on that. I walked into my room the other day, and it had a familiar smell to it. A scent that I know from more than a decade ago. I felt like I had just landed into the Philippines. Weird, I thought. It’s kind of cool to remember certain things once in awhile, but other times, remembering other things isn’t so comforting, it’s really disturbing. I’ve had a lot of time to think about certain moments, forgive myself, learn, move on, and try to forget. Maybe part of the problem is wanting to repress those memories, and now they’re coming back. Or maybe, it’s just that time of the year where I have a lot of extra time to think, and thinking has always done more bad, than good.