They call it reminiscing, dregs of memory flowing away, a lump in the throat, just a vault locked away inside that you peep into once in a while midst the present whizzing past at breakneck speeds.
But at times... when gathering those moments scattered in the winds of time you realize that you always knew, even at that time, that you were only gathering memories.
Nostalgia is really made in the present.
.
But at times... when gathering those moments scattered in the winds of time you realize that you always knew, even at that time, that you were only gathering memories.
Nostalgia is really made in the present.
.
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