On Nostalgia

I think nostalgia is interesting.The way it sneaks into the crevices of our mind,colouring and blurring memory,unraveling itself across the distance between the here and the then.

Nostalgia creates and erases distance in the realm of time,it adds weight to certain memories and frees others,leaves those light and airy to float across the map of your mind till they fizzle out to non-existence.

I never knew how nostalgic you can be for the recent past-the very recent,the barely past.But that is because I never understood time before-how the ticking of the clock cannot keep track of it,how numbers are redundant in containing it,how an entire lifetime can crawl into a split second or a second spread out across years.

It is summer now,or as good as,and summer is hot,it is blazing,it is sticky and uncomfortable-it is cruel.And I am uncomfortable in time in a way I have never been before-I find myself being swept forth in its current,ceaselessly and unwillingly.I want nothing more than to hop off,to opt out and I go back to life before the sun beat down with quite this vigour-the nebulous calm of winter nights,if not the flushed,muted radiance of fall.I want to be taken back,and I cannot return-I can go forth,and find myself in another glorious September-in a way that will allow me to believe,if I try hard,that I have taken the roundabout route and returned,but I will not return,not really.And the utter irrevocability of time has never seemed so unforgiving.


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