trippin’ (20/July/18)

I’ve been trippin’……

… down memory lane, that is, not sure I’d recommend it especially as a form of therapy although to some rebirthing seems to be and isn’t that just the same thing, following the breadcrumbs, retracing ones steps only to find some bugger’s got there first with a clean broom…. it’s a double-edged sword though, mind your step, mind the gap, and while you’re at it mind your manners and most definitely mind how you go, it’s a veritable minefield of remembered, half-remembered, half forgotten, long forgotten, woebegotten, ill-gotten fancy-free and fanciful and oh my god I really had that hair… though not so much the latter in my case having lost most of mine slightly prematurely…. in fact it’s not unlike trying to find follicles on a bald pate, few needles or even straw in tis haystack…… wondering where they are now, not my follicles, they’re gone with the wind, names, how many are even still alive (again, not my follicles, they’re dust to dust)…..
… I suppose it was the sudden appearance of this Alumni magazine from my old alma mater in the heady days and daze of the ‘undergrad years’ …… it was fairly intense, much a blur, manic and wayward, starting as one thing and ending another, a constant battle of balance between academia and hedonism… I definitely gave the scales a headache… all the best intentions became increasingly unintentional as I stumbled and fumbled and bumbled from one clue to the next not really wondering what would happen next until it happened next and by then there was another next on the horizon lurking and looming……
… I went as a mature student, the only way given the normal path of educational attainment wasn’t shiningly educationally attained so I slipped in under the wire on age while feigning maturity, or a definition of…… I suppose I’m just nosy, wanting to know what happened next with anyone I knew, even though embarrassingly I don’t even remember all their names… shocking!…… faces yes, mostly, sometimes I never even knew their full name, just a first or a nickname so reclaiming them from my wonky historical hangover would be somewhat Herculean… who am I kidding, there’s little hope really but… you never know… actually it’s the obituaries in the back of the magazine that spurred this, not an auspicious beginning to a quest I realise as time crashes inexorably onward they become increasingly going, going, gone….
… but why even bother?… I should kept notes, a regular diary perhaps, details, dates and yes names, took more photos… hindsight is a wonderful if not annoying reminder to what’s irretrievable…… they say we should always learn from the past, well, this is mine, the good, the bad, the ugly, or part of it anyway…… they also say curiousity killed the cat, though I am puzzled as to why that should be the case, but reason, logic, definitely overrated……

© 2018 robert greig

if hedgehogs (7/Jan/18)

I just stumbled on a very telling annotation I’d obviously made, as it’s in my handwriting, on a page of financial calculation and exercises made during a statistics class at university which although I remember the class itself don’t fully recall scribbling something that clearly summed-up (no pun intended… or maybe a little…) what I thought of stats…

“if the world is round then
hedgehogs truly are aliens”

… indeed, a clear exposition of my state of mind and yes my opinions of this particular module on the course which for me each class flip-flopped between tedium and anxiety… this I noticed is further amplified on the page which begins with a degree, or the best I could muster, of recognisably mathematical formulations descending into increasing blank spaces where I presumed answers of some kind should have been presumably culminating at some point in that annotation, being all I had left in the tank……. I think I never went to one of those lectures again and probably goes a long way in explaining why I dropped out………

© 2018 robert greig