Nostalgia. They're born from the junks you collect from the years back. They're the memories you immortalized in scraps of papers or shrapnels of tin. I love all my familiarities. Things I grew up with. I dearly miss all my darlings back home.
Mom kept threatening to throw away all my stocked up 'valuables'. But I cleverly locked them up in a drawer. *evil laughter!* But she does have a point, what's the point in keeping all of them and bringing them along with me through graduation, houseman years, specialist days? Plus, I dont think my pillow can survive that long. Or that note-written tissue. Or that rust-speckled tin box. Damn. Time erodes. And there's so many things I would love to hang on to but its impractical.
SPRING CLEAN!!!
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