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In this thread, please share a memory of yours. It can be happy, sad, or neither, but please select one that stands out compared to the rest. When replying to others, remember to be polite.

For me, at least, it's hard to pick out something specific that stood out to me since my life has been pretty dull. What stands out are the impressions and feelings that made up a certain time in my life: the sounds, the smells, how I felt about myself and others at the time, the weather. I remember the summer between 6th and 7th grade, when I stayed at my grandparents' place for two months. It was always around 75 degrees and sunny. I'd walk to the library with my mom and breathe in the clearance paperback racks by the door, come out with eight or nine books at a time, and spend the walk home awkwardly balancing the stack in my arms. I read almost the whole Redwell series then - I couldn't get enough of them. I liked to sneak into the laundry room, where the big freezer was, and take a handful of frozen chocolate pieces from the gallon bag in the door to eat as I read. I stayed in my dad's old room, the one with the big, comfy bed and the portrait of my great-grandpa. I liked to get lost in imaginative fantasy stories and the not-quite-medieval feeling I got from the books. When I needed a break, I'd go for a walk around the neighborhood - it was always quiet. There was a bike path a mile away that led under a highway, to a brick wall used by aspiring rock climbers to train and by aspiring graffiti artists to practice. Nearby were a couple storm drains and old concrete structures that helped direct waterflow out to the ocean. I never quite had the courage to explore one alone, but it looked neat. At night, I'd curl up in the thick blankets on the bed and fantasize about a mixture of what I'd been reading and my own thoughts until I got lost in it and drifted off. It was a good time. I didn't talk to a whole lot of people outside of my family then, but that was okay. I was content with reading fantasy books and drinking Nesquik forever.

my memory is really bad. Without being prompted most things are just hazy and vague. All impact is lost. I'm simply not paying attention most of the time. There was a period where I thought I was going crazy. Everything was threatening. The bus gurgled like an angry beast. Everyone on the bus hated me. I thought that at any moment I would snap. I tried to ask somebody for the time and I could barely get it out. I don't even know what I sounded like. I was sweaty. She thought I was on drugs or something. I'd been 100% sober for weeks. The time between that and my next real visceral memory(having sex) is a blank. I don't remember anything about that at all. Apparently nothing happened though.

No part of my life has ever been interesting. Maybe I'll just go die, I'll sooner do that than be a corporate slave.

>>8607 Waking up and having a "feeling" to check my girlfriends phone. She was "emotionally cheating", although I don't believe that nothing physical happened. It's been over a year and I still regret storming out and not trying harder to fix things.

When I first discovered the internet, I would go on youtube and travel on adventures using the related videos tab. I'd start by typing something into the search bad, usually FMX or basejumping, or some other extreme sport I thought was cool. Then I'd click a random video and spend ages just watching these people do crazy tricks, or death defying stunts. I never used any chat services like MSN, I wasn't cool enough. All my early internet experiences are solitary affairs, on youtube, trawling forums for gameboy cheats (which would never work), until eventually stumbling across 4chan. And it all went downhill from there.

My dad took us to see Star Wars at a drive in. There was no "A New Hope" then, it was just called Star Wars though this was not the year it hit theaters either. I was in my pyjamas and fell asleep in the car so until they showed it on cable later, I thought Star Wars mostly took place in a desert because I didn't last much longer than that part. My brother also remembers this night, better than me because he was older.

>>8676 That wasn't your job to fix