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Solitude and Memories

Beat Mango

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People remember things that are of emotional significance to them. Typically, for most people, this involves interaction with other people. Eg, if they have a good time with someone, they anchor their positive feelings onto this person and so in the future, thinking of this person will bring about a copy of those good-times emotions.

I, however, don't get this perhaps as much as normal people. Most emotionally significant moments I have by myself, in solitude, and as a result, I anchor the emotions onto my surroundings. There are no people in my surroundings, though, so what I attach the good feelings too are the places I am at. I have great memories and feelings of nostalgia walking through my university campus, where I used to sit and drink chai lattes by myself after class, watching the people going by and talking busily. I have great memories of sitting at Malabar beach at night and watching the moon set over the water. I have great memories of driving to and from Wollongong alone, getting to know the green surroundings.

But this rather odd, isn't it? When most people get nostalgic and reminisce on good times, isn't it usually associated with other people? I'm wondering if other INTPs get this same feeling that I do, of nostalgia reminiscing on moments of solitude...
 

Ashenstar

I'm your chauffeur with high
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Oh yes I do.

Even if I simply scan my brain for happy moments in my life, most of them I was alone and experiencing something wonderful internally.

One of my favorites is being about 3 running around in the evening desert by myself trying to catch lizards. Very vivid memory too.

Even if there were people in my cherished memories I tend to ignore their presence in the memory and focus on what I was feeling/thinking.

Lying in bed at 1:00 in the morning when I was living in the city briefly during the summer about 5 years ago. Listening to the city's life force just taking all of it in and quietly thinking ... oh yeah.. there was someone sleeping next to me.
 

Reverse Transcriptase

"you're a poet whether you like it or not"
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when I was living in the city briefly during the summer about 5 city's life force just taking all of it in and quietly thinking
How do you measure a city's life force?

I've got memories, but they're the memories of a different person. I just inherited this body, ya know?
 

Ashenstar

I'm your chauffeur with high
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How do you measure a city's life force?

I've got memories, but they're the memories of a different person. I just inherited this body, ya know?
whoah, how the hell did I type that. lemme fix that :o

that is the most clumsy bit of writing I have ever done. hmmm
 

Reverse Transcriptase

"you're a poet whether you like it or not"
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*pokes Ashenstar* You should still answer the question. :p
 

Tyria

Ryuusa bakuryuu
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I understand what Ashenstar is saying. The city itself does not have a life force. But the sounds of a city (sirens wailing, trucks going around picking up trash, people walking on the streets, etc) all show that there is life within the city (people going about living and doing their routines). It's these city sounds that make me think of the quote that music is like counting without counting. In a way, listening to city sounds is somewhat like listening to music.

The difference is that the notes aren't organized well :)

The memories I think of in solitude are not with purpose; I let my mind wander and watch the replays.
 

Ombat

but for all I aspire I am really a liar
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Most of my emotional memories come from when I was alone, yes. The nostalgia of certain places I definitely relate to. There's an emotional attatchment to all places I have been, with what I was thinking about while I was looking at the scenery, not necessarily with the interactions I had with the people there.

I have to think of certain people themselves in order to have the fond memories I have of them, not the emotion itself or the place.
 
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Hmmm. Alone.
The pattern of cracks in the hard clay soil, and the texture of it. Slight hollows in the white-yellow dried grasses, where jackrabbits slept. The feel of that dirt and those grasses under bare feet: very different at the beginning of the summer and the end. The smell of star thistle and wild oats, and the waves of heat during the day and cool thermoclines along the creek in the early morning.

People? What people?
 

Kuu

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Oh yeah. Places, things, my thoughts about them. This is nostalgia for me. In my memories, other people are like faceless shadows...


Large cities <3
 
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