memory log: Sunday, September 6, 2009

One of the more emotional days. It was the end of the trip. The end of the journey. And everything looked different.

There was a distance now from the kid and teenager i was and the experience of walking the streets and being near and in that house in Lansdale. It's like my journey ended as i stood on the edge of my parent's property to look at the house i partially grew up in. Whatever loaded memories and negative experiences i had resided there and i was letting them stay. It felt like they didn't belong to me anymore. There's such a distance from the violence, depression, abuse, lack of hope, lack of support, lack of care. It almost felt silly to revisit it.

From standing on the edge of their property i realized that i didn't need to run it around in my head anymore. There was no need to try to make sense of how or why certain people act the way they do. I couldn't make my parents be different. I couldn't undo what they've done or what it's done to me. I realized i didn't have to be that. Of course, people meet you and they see you the way you are but you don't always see it. Then those people get confused when you act in all these contradictory ways but the whole time you're battling the self you think you are or are supposed to be and the self you are. But it's the same thing. I realized i didn't have to do anything i was supposed to do. I just had to be there and stop feeling guilty for everything or feeling that being myself was a fault that needed to be corrected.

When we took our final walk to the Lansdale train station, i filmed the entire way but it felt routine and unnecessary. The film is there, though, and the photos. Maybe after i've settled and had some time to look everything over, i'll see why i needed to film it. The memorable parts of the trip were everything leading up to that. I don't know. The journey is more interesting than the goal.