Have you ever had those days when you feel blue (not really that sad) for no reason at all and in your memory, you keep on grasping something unknown? I'm having that kind of day (night) now and I feel a little funny.
It feels a little weird and various memories come back as if... as if they are some forgotten pieces of an unsolved puzzle. There's a sunny day with lots of smiling people, endless classroom lecture hours, happy times in front of the television during childhood, rainy days, random moments in front of the house door, laughing people, crying people. I... my memory actually... is not making any sense.
I am currently watching my favorite TV show during my childhood years. Until a few minutes ago, I was laughing, thinking that the story line was not really not great now that I am re-watching it 24 years later. It was just a random tale about five superheroes with robots and gadgets and well yeah... and an overly ideal master. Don't get me wrong, it's the story line that is not great, not the show itself, not the memory of the show. For me, this TV series will always be one of the very best, if not the best, that I have watched to date. Why? What is so good about it, I wonder. And then as I was re-watching everything, I realize that what made this show so good was the memory associated with it and the people who have loved it as well. I guess that's what makes special things... special huh? On their own, they're ordinary but once they merge together with important people and feelings and dates and happiness... they become special. I watched this show back when life was simpler and I was an innocent, stress-free four/five-year-old kid. I used to sit in front of a black and white television along with a handful (or more) kids, getting excited whenever the protagonists get to use their robot and defeat the bad guys. For the most part, I remember we watched silently, each sharing the same feelings of "heck this is awesome". The world stops for twenty minutes and when those twenty minutes end, for one more hour, it does not continue revolving because I was Pink Mask, my sister was Yellow Mask and our playmates assume some other role and we get caught imitating the best superheroes of our childhood. When six o'clock strikes and the adventure ends, the world resumes its revolution until a week after when the next episode of the show would once again begin.
For one hour and twenty minutes every week, the world would stop and we would become superheroes.
It is a precious and fun piece of childhood memory that taught me so many good things like friendship, teamwork, love, adventure and fun. Re-watching it twenty four years later, it is still capable of teaching me new things. Like how things and events triple in sentimental importance and value when spent with important people. That show was a mediocre show, I know that now but the memory of having watched that show is more than precious. It is invaluable and priceless and can never ever be matched with anything that this mundane world has to offer. It occupies a part of my memory that will never be occupied by anything else and I am sure that if I will re-watch it one hundred and one years later, it would still be as precious and as special as it had been when I first saw it.
Why am I like this anyway? haha!