10.22.2005,10:53
passing notes
Remember when your most important ideas ended up on torn-off scaps of note paper because you just had to share them and there was no other way? I have piles, in old boxes, of those shreds of brilliant moments, in case I ever want to go for a walk through the past. But most of the time, I really don't. I'm not sure if here or now was ever what I was aiming for, but in retrospect, it seems to match up okay. Do we forever modify our memories of our childhood dreams of adulthood by growing up into them? Because I only have little snippets of what I used to dream the future could be, like those torn pieces of note paper. Dreams so innocent we didn't even know to cherish them.


Am I there yet?
 
posted by sasha
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