is it funny or weird or sad that i don’t pour in here as much as i used to ?

“the flowers you gave me are rotting and still I refuse to throw them away…”
i had some sort of revival earlier tonight, not the “hey guys let’s listen to the cranberries” sort, but almost. it looks like i’ve forgotten that i used to be a cashier in a shop and that i had a few friends there. it’s like i’ve forgotten the thrill of everyting that used to be new. it’s like i’ve forgotten that i used to believe in a few things. not many things of course. just a few important and meaningless ones. like i used to believe that writing everything and nothing all the time wasn’t important. yet it was. like i used to believe i could quit everything and leave everyone in an eyeblink. yet i can’t. like i used to believe in winds and suns and dreams and clouds, and maybe i still do but it’s changed. like i used to believe in a caring presence somewhere, like an eye somehow. nothing godly or mysterious, just something that still was there then. and it isn’t anymore, for quite some time now. i thought that i would have forgotten it by now, that i would have grown out of those things, that i wouldn’t miss it sometimes, yet i do.
i used to believe in notepads full of small pictures and i used to believe in lots of words and i used to believe that i had all the time in the world and i even used to believe in lots of songs, i used to believe in boats and travels and i used to believe in something i shamelessly called art, i used to believe that the world wasn’t that bad because i both was and wasn’t in it and i used to not believe in consequences, i used to believe in a few other silly things that i won’t mention because why should i care anymore ?
i’ve forgotten a dozen more things. i’ve forgotten most of what i dream when i’m finally asleep. i’ve forgotten my notepad in my bag for months and maybe years. i’ve forgotten how not to tie myself. i’ve forgotten to listen to old songs that i love. i’ve forgotten to believe in many crucial and silly things. i’ve forgotten to make a ton of pictures. and i’ve forgotten to tell some people how much they mean to me.
“Some of the bulbs never opened quite fully, They might so i’m waiting and staying awake.”

is it funny or weird or sad or normal that i don’t pour in here as much as i used to ? is it strange or sad that i don’t keep a record of anything anymore ? is it strange or funny or sad that i only care about it at 4 am once a year ?
“Things I have loved i’m allowed to keep, I’ll never know if I go to sleep.”

(on a side note, can anyone believe that the second cranberries album was released 13 years ago ? i know i can’t.)