what if there's no time to lose, what if there's things we gotta do, things that need to be said
2004-03-25 & 12:39 a.m.

sometimes, i will stumble upon a photograph after it emerges from the layered depth of my room. so many split seconds caught on camera have the power to take my breath away sometimes. my friend's mother sent me a picture of my friend and i, at ages nine and ten, dancing. the clock on the wall says eight o'clock and you can see the sun setting behind the white curtains in our old living room. i am wearing a huge red hat and neon pink shorts. now that she is gone, those moments i had forgotten about seem especially poignant. and even more painful. there is a picture of me at age ten, in a tree, wearing all purple, and i can remember thinking to remember what i was thinking at that moment. the thought processes behind the newer pictures are, of course, easier to remember. the one with jacky, meghan, and i on top of the dune in the sahara. meryem, my roommate from morocco, and i dancing to manu chao. there are those memories that are more malleable, softer around the edges. i can remember my picture being taken when i was four. i was wearing my favorite red shoes and i was behind the fence of the neighbor of my grandfather. i remember thinking how strange it was to be taking a picture of that. all these moments, these memories, seem almost irrelevant when taken out of context, as isolated beings. but then you realize that we are all just an infinite number of moments, strung together. and so, i can look at myself, celebrating my second birthday in argentina, and smile. because that moment changed the rest of my life. as every moment does.