Sometimes, Memories feels so sweet. But at the end of it, there's that "deep sigh" signalling the pouring in of reality! Who'd ever wonder all the happiness would settle just as little pics @ the back of our head, only for us to see. People in our memories might not have the same memory as we do, or have the same perception of the memory as we do. Its something special, and as unique, as us. But why do we really need them? This is something which has always been one my unanswered questions, through the never ending philosophical rides I have within myself. Ya, i'm an absolute emo!
Then one day,
My school friend pops on my chatroom window. So excited is she, to find me! So am I! We chat for so long, just like those years gone by. I feel the longing, those chats we had during breaks, about all the interesting things in life. Be it literature, God, Science, etc. Yes, we were that secluded 2 member gang! Nobody we closely knew ever had that interest in such things as we did. We were Outlaws. But we liked what little things we knew, and shared.
Then, passes on those years. Lost touch.
Me became, that "useless teen" to a somewhat-settled "Designer". She went to become that, " Talented IT girl". She has published poems in Tamil mags. Wow! Me, well, a letter to a editor, of how nice his mag is - got published. Now we know for what real reasons it got published :p, "Free advertising".
Anyways, I felt this huge "get useful" adrenaline rush inside. Why not Write? Why not read a couple of useful books, and spend time more meaningfully?
Now I feel, Memories are cool. So are friends.
Then one day,
My school friend pops on my chatroom window. So excited is she, to find me! So am I! We chat for so long, just like those years gone by. I feel the longing, those chats we had during breaks, about all the interesting things in life. Be it literature, God, Science, etc. Yes, we were that secluded 2 member gang! Nobody we closely knew ever had that interest in such things as we did. We were Outlaws. But we liked what little things we knew, and shared.
Then, passes on those years. Lost touch.
Me became, that "useless teen" to a somewhat-settled "Designer". She went to become that, " Talented IT girl". She has published poems in Tamil mags. Wow! Me, well, a letter to a editor, of how nice his mag is - got published. Now we know for what real reasons it got published :p, "Free advertising".
Anyways, I felt this huge "get useful" adrenaline rush inside. Why not Write? Why not read a couple of useful books, and spend time more meaningfully?
Now I feel, Memories are cool. So are friends.
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