Isn't it weird that some places are meant to be a past reminder, that whenever you step onto the mossy pavements, you'd see the moments as if they emerge vaguely out of nowhere, and the worst is that they're getting sharper in every another steps?
This afternoon, while I was driving around with a friend, we passed an old building which used to be the place we went to everyday for 3 years long. And, we casually decided to come over.
a n d i t h u r t .
I had no idea which pieces of my part that seemed to feel something that was just like a sting; it knocked me out. More like slapping. It was so much pain yet it felt as good as when the moments lived.
And, yes, it felt good. Just because they ever lived. Just because the laughter in the hallway that I passed through was real. Just because the wounds that ever cracked so many people there were true.
I looked around; my soul probably had starved over such atmosphere. Then I began to realize that there were to much things in just one place. They came altogether in that very moment; consuming my thoughts.