Poem from the Past

Fei has moved so many times in her life that she can't
remember all the details of her houses and the people
who lived in them.

One day, she moves again.

Crossing the empty country, she starts to remember.
She remembers every detail, every beam and wall
and door and furniture; every person and ghost
who lived in them.

She remembers houses in the sea.
She remembers a boat washed ashore.
She knows she has lived in them,
in another country, in another time.
She just can't remember herself in them.

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This is a poem entitled Furnitur, which I found on a programme booklet of a performance by Drama Box which I had kept since years ago. Something I had found as I was undertaking a small spring-cleaning exercise today. When I saw the poem, it seems to speak to me, like it has found me, rather than that I had found it.

I have always pondered, do I remember what I was like playing different roles along the different phases of my life? I couldn't have been the same as the person I am now, people change right? But I can't recall how I was like then. I'm not sure if it's the same with everybody else...

Like the poem, we're like Fei, moving from one phase of life to the next. We remember places and faces, but we don't exactly remember what we were like then. Sometimes I feel that I've been trapped in a figment of my childhood, time has moved and I haven't. It's still me and I haven't changed. I dont' really know but I guess we never will.