diabolicbeauty: (Chindown)
diabolicbeauty ([personal profile] diabolicbeauty) wrote2012-07-13 09:40 am

Memories? What Memories?

What do I remember of the past?

I do recall being a provincial bourgeoise who fell in love with a beautiful but consumptive demi-mondaine in mid-19th Century Paris...I was mad for her, but when my father feared our relationship would ruin my sister's chances for marriage, he persuaded her to decieve me into thinking my love unrequited. Ah, my darling Marguerite...I found out too late that she loved me dearly and...

Oh, wait a moment. That's the plot to La Dame aux camélias...splendid novel, one of my favourites during those wonderful years in la belle époque. I knew this absolutely marvelous actress who played Camille on stage...

Memories are treacherous things, always. I have always been a lucid dreamer, and my dreams are very vivid. I have some rich memories of good times in the past, but I love my life in the here and now. And the dark recollections? Losing my friends so many times? I don't pick at them too much...there is a reason I cling fiercely to my friends in this life. I try not to look too hard - I don't want to sail off the edge of the world, where the ancient maps told us "here be dragons".
theroseinmisery: (thinking)

[personal profile] theroseinmisery 2012-07-13 12:47 am (UTC)(link)
Perhaps you are right in doing so, Monsieur Courfeyrac.

Dig too deeply into the past, and one begins to find things they wish they didn't.
Edited 2012-07-13 00:47 (UTC)
justanotheridealist: Roger Garth (contemplative)

[personal profile] justanotheridealist 2012-07-13 01:04 am (UTC)(link)
If you were to cast off in that direction, we wouldn't let you go over the edge.