NEW memory UNLOCKED!
August 26, 2021 Thrusday 2:45 PM
When I was elementary/middle school (idk which), my friends and I (mainly these girls Lily and Aaron, both of whom I used to mention a lot in the early days of this diary) used to go to this old-fashioned candy shop way down the street from both of their houses, and all the candy was super cheap and sold individually—for dimes and quarters and sometimes dollars. We used to ask our parents for money and then we'd go there with our 5 or 10 or 20 dollar bills and buy bags of candies—gummies, taffies, lollipops, hard candies, chocolates, etc.
I'm remembering this because I went to go get bloodwork earlier, and on my way back, I realized I only had an hour and a half before my tutoring session. That seems like a lot of time, but I needed time to study and prep before then, and I hadn't eaten yet, and *also* we have no food currently because I usually do the shopping and I haven't gone since the weekend. We even ran out of eggs, which is a big no-no in this house.
So I stopped by the gas station near my house and got a box of macaroni and cheese and a 59 cent tootsie pop, which I grabbed on a whim. I just ate it and it was so good. I forgot how good lollipops are. The last time I had some, it was around halloween. I bought a bunch of dum-dums and had them set up on the living room coffee table for free consumption.
I'm also anxious—I keep having those pop-up memories again, and they're mostly bad, and mostly make me say things like "I'm going to kill myself!" and "I want. To shoot myself. In the face." And then I come back to reality and I'm like "woof. cool!" only it's neither woof nor is it cool. Well, it's pretty woof, actually. If we're talking about woof (derogatory). Which, usually, we are.
I had one about the lollipops. When I was eating lollipops last Halloween, I sometimes ate them during class. And I suddenly felt absolutely horrible and embarrassed about that fact—I remember feeling like that shortly after I had done it, too. And I didn't know why, so I had to do some light introspection. Turns out I am ashamed because I worried someone in class might think I was trying to be sexy—and what if they were right? What if they were experiencing second-hand embarrassment for me. What if they thought I was being rude? That's the crux of it, the crux of why I feel ashamed. Not guilty—ashamed. The difference fascinates me.
Anyway I've got tutoring in 10 minutes so I'm gonna do a quick review again. Brb boys!
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