It is amazing how one road leads to another, and our hearts grow heavy with all the richness we go through, over the years.
Then, a blast from the past takes you back to a point in time, maybe, to where you are waiting for the bus, and the neighbourhood handsome who had lent you his books, asks you about your exams and his voice materializes real slowly in your brain and you are thinking 'WHEN was my exams?!'; it is fun, really, this blast to the past.
But it is fazing, when the person you encounter there, the real you, is completely different from the one you remember yourself to be then. You realize then that you have twisted your own story over time. You remember with passion not a hated past.
You remember yourself to be in good times, and sometimes it is all that matters.
Then, a blast from the past takes you back to a point in time, maybe, to where you are waiting for the bus, and the neighbourhood handsome who had lent you his books, asks you about your exams and his voice materializes real slowly in your brain and you are thinking 'WHEN was my exams?!'; it is fun, really, this blast to the past.
But it is fazing, when the person you encounter there, the real you, is completely different from the one you remember yourself to be then. You realize then that you have twisted your own story over time. You remember with passion not a hated past.
You remember yourself to be in good times, and sometimes it is all that matters.