| crinkly fold |
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| 12:40am 21/07/2003 |
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mood:  nostalgic
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I’m in a blissful state at present. A gentle breeze is swirling through my room, coming in the northeast window, reminding all the dusty corners that they still exist, and then continuing out my door and down the second-floor hallway. In my absence through the years things have been shifted and reorganized in this room. But my collection of trinkets and the memories attached to them are all still here. Old, hand-me-down Playboy magazines are still preserved under my mattress, although the thought of the feathered hair and style of Hef’s 1982 Bunnies keeps me from revisiting the contents. The “Tower of Time” poster given me by my sixth grade science teacher is still taped on my wall, and the Marvel universe remains neatly stacked on a shelf. My first pocket knife still smells like fish guts and opens with the sound of the sandy grit it acquired through years of boyish misuse. Back then cutting the ground seemed like a useful pastime. The instructions from the uncle who gave me the knife: “it’s not for chopping, so don’t chop”, left digging as an attractive option.
I’m in a memorable chair, wearing memorable clothes, drinking sharp, bold coffee through a memorable mug. The bright whiteness of this ibook LCD screen is an excellent contrast to the dark walls and slightly yellow glow from my old and favorite brushed steel desk lamp. The sky is wispy with a hint of gloom, and the area outside and around the house is silent except for occasional cheeping from trees and shhhh-ing from the rainy breeze. The fact that my mug is still mostly full and steaming leaves practically nothing to be desired. I wonder how long this will last. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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