I've gone through a dozen memories, all written pieces of a past I've left behind. How odd it is to go back and see myself again in a younger light. The hours and days that have passed between those days and today seem so distant, and yet I remember them like they happened just yesterday. Or perhaps it is the ache from those days that remain, imparted upon my heart like daggers.
I've deleted most of the journal entries, and have many more to remove. I have no desire to look back on them, to wallow in questions of what could have been if we'd just grown up a little more.
I haven't written in months, at least on a personal level.
I still write. I still weave and craft my words into stories that fill the ether and imagination.
I'll always write and express my thoughts and feelings into words.
Some days it is a struggle to find the right things to say, and others it flows from my fingertips without hindrance.
I missed this little place on the internet. How strange to still see it thriving as well as it had been when I had first joined, when so many other domains have folded and gone.
This place is nostalgic for me.
A place that makes me smile and chuckle with fond memories.
It's like home.
Tedyra Sukiyo · Wed Apr 01, 2020 @ 06:09pm · 0 Comments |