Sunday, 12 February 2017

She Walks Around and Around and Around the Block, How Does She Keep Getting Fatter When She Never Seems to Stop?

Even the bad times gave me that steeped pining pang of nostalgia now. Even the bad times, for all their foul memories, when imbued with the overwhelmingly desperate distance of time, had me longing for something I perceived as lost. Even awkward, stomach wrenching regrets, those that wind a corkscrew through my insides to think of even now, are never the less bobbing away in a sea of timeless youth and of a naivety long lost. Things seemed so much simpler then. Of course, they probably weren't. That's how memories age, fade, and change. The age old spread from innocence to the grave, and everything inside my head that's doomed to be decayed.

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