Mountain Portrait 1

It’s all been happening as if through a filter; an image, perception-altering lens that enhances everything within its frame. And as each vibrant snapshot tumbles into the abyss of memory, so does a new image appear, these frames being compiled to create the very identity of those who witness them. I must admit that times are changing; not just in the generational sense of the word but in the mere sense of years, months, even minutes. High school has come and gone, and a summer of these very snapshots have passed with surprising intensity and speed. I had sought to recreate old times for posterity’s sake, but instead have experienced moments that have become precious in themselves, and because of that they’ve become that much more reluctantly filed away as new memories in the grand stack that is my life.

I’ve realized over the years that as these snapshots fade, their value seems to multiply as that of an antique. It seems that once the foundation of memories is set, it will always be there in us no matter how nonexistent in the present. Yet the present is all we’ve got; constantly shifting, moving pictures that begin fading by the millisecond. These ever transforming scenes may consist of laughter and tears, mere minutes and years. Bleh, I know this is cheesy. But when you are on the border between childhood and adulthood, and when you are freaking out about the prospect of getting past the very checkpoint that divides the two, there is no preventing those feelings of sentimentality and reminiscence. Before this summer even started, I had felt the impending loss of many friends that were soon moving on to bigger and better things, as well as my own daunting future ahead. But, as the date of my trip around the world creeps around the corner, a bright beacon in my very near future, I cannot help to try to grasp those fleeting shadows of very fresh memories that have collected over the past month. I’ve seen the island of Oahu spread out beneath me as I stood on the Ko’olaus, first-handedly shot a billiard ball straight to its target (not quite as often as hoped, I must admit), even endured a badly bruised arm from a not-so-stealthy jump off the rock at Waimea bay. But none of these great experiences would have meant much without the great connections I made and strengthened while doing them. Life’s too short to live without some company, and I feel closer now than ever to those who are on the brink of leaving me for good. But all I can say is that it was worth it. No matter what happens next, I must keep experiencing these moment-enhanced snapshots of the present, and make my collection of memory as vibrant as can be.

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