- Joined
- Jan 2, 2025
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Whenever I decide to go for a walk, and I pass by my old school, and when I just sit down on a bench overlooking both the school and the playground...and I just think to myself, and I start imagining and remembering all the things I did; playing with friends, doing homework, walking from class to another class, talking to friends and doing pranks until teachers scold us. I look back at times like that, and I remember how nice it all was, how innocent life was and how everything was beautiful. I think to myself that I am old, or that I have become old, but in all reality, I am still far from it, and that fact still brings me this bittersweet nervousness laced with happiness. I often feel that time goes by too fast, and that I don't get the chance to really experience the time I lived, but I think that's kinda why life is as beautiful as it is. You may walk down a path and see a maple tree gleaming red in autumn's leaves and just stand there, gazing at that tree and becoming entranced so much by it, and by its beauty that you just can't help but crack a smile. That then can become a core memory, and you may spend 10 years having not walked that path and then come back to it on the 11th year and just get the rush of nostalgia and happiness. Same thing with work, there is a certain beauty and nostalgia to clocking in and clocking out time and time again for years and years up until you do it for the last time and you it just hits you deep down of how you stop seeing your co-workers, you will stop hanging out with the friends you made and you will stop doing whatever it was that you worked on. It's things like these that really make me think to myself, "Damn...I really am old."