I’m going through some of my old things from childhood, as part of a clearout, and I’m finding it hard to get rid of them. They’re my link to a time when I wasn’t like this. When I felt really alive, as opposed to just living.
I’m not sure what exactly it is. I suppose they remind me of when I was last happy. When the world seemed both fascinating and simple, rather than threatening and complex. Every tiny thing felt meaningful, as opposed to now, when everything I do is kind of empty. My life felt worthwhile. The world was a good place to be, […]