22 Scrapbook

When I turned 22 a doomsday clock began counting down that made me so anxious that I started hoarding memories. As of writing I'm currently in that spot I was so afraid of back then, and it turns out there was light in it after all. Perhaps the only thing I was right about at 22 was my compulsion to keep things, though my box of keepsakes looked like an office bin for a while (that is: fine and clean, but still crumpled-up paper waste). I think I made solid use of it! The vessel is an accordion book, so it's double-sided, though I tell people to start on one end and then the other.

SIDE B

The Introductory Page, filled with every sticker I had surrounding a text intro that reads, "INTRODUCTION— I decided to make a scrapbook because my room was beginning to look like a trashcan from all the built-up paper fondness littering my shelves. It's a lovely issue to have, I think. It'll be messy, it'll be terrible, but it's all I've got?!"





Postcards from sisters— Kathryn and Garrett's reads, "BIG SHOT MELLY! Happy b-day!!!" and Bon's reads, "Hello My dearest Moochie, This silly little mouse is going to walk in the rain, just like us. I hope You ate well today. I just had Subway. My hand is already cramping writing this. Anyway, you have all my love. —Bon"

note from Coney Island that bears Yachty and Kyle's conversation at the start of "iSpy" (crying emoji)

"THE MANILA ENVELOPE THAT MY THESIS WAS RETURNED IN. COMPLETED 2022 & RE-TURNED EARLY 2023. THESIS ADVISOR PROF HAHN FOR INCARCERATION HIST (FALL '22)"

Two pages dedicated solely to preserving my "Cum bucket" plankton image and my Vivi photocard

Two pages for the remnants of my Loona and IZONE posters, which I knew I was never going to hang up again, as well as cutouts from the menu of the little deli/grocer in Rockaway

Another kind of commemorative page— polaroids from the day we took grad pics and a bunch of my orange-colored paper to make it cohesive

AFTERWORD which reads, "This half is largely made up of memories from being 22. I write this a few weeks from 23. I will no longer be in New York City by then. I could feel it all slipping away from me while simultaneously creating new memories to hold— maybe that's why I so eagerly kept every 'scrap' from it. I can see this moment being something I remember for a long time. I will miss it dearly. I only turn to the past/the scraps when I am 1) dreading the future, or 2) too idle to live in the present. As I wrap this up, the memories-pile dwindles. Huge scraps plastered on with glue has made this 'text' large. Hopefully I can guide it to completion, set a heavy object on it, and leave it untouched until I forget that these are the good ol' days again." August 20, 2023
SIDE A
An About the Author page with a picture of me and a passage that reads, "I would like this side to serve as a time capsule of who I was when I began. It's got old IDs, old bangs, and old poetry. Let's see where it goes."

Author in Numbers, a stats page as of creation from March 2023—10,930 steps was my daily average in February, I had 5,509 images on my phone, I had liked 1,486 songs on Spotify, I had 3,218 outstanding notifications, 73 total Instagram posts, I had spent 21 days off Twitter (for Lent), and at that moment I had lived exactly 8,200 days.

OLD IDs— 2019 NYU first issue ID, my end-of-OSSM look and my 2020 license where I call that year the "worst time of my life"


Poetry censored LMFAO




Naval flags that read "OOMFHOP" and snowflakes cut out by everyone :)




Note I kept in my wallet the entire time I stayed at Rockaway just in case someone inquired about my whereabouts—"To whom it may concern, This certifies that my niece Andrea Bautista will be staying at my apartment at 133 Beach 120th St., Rockaway Park NY #4C -MaLourdes DeAsis" as well as a note for me detailing the key situation. Love you Tita Malu <3


This was really the year I stopped being so neutral about life and started really loving it. I'm proud of the scrapbook still, a year later from when I started it.

No comments:

Post a Comment

What do you think?

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)