for what it's worth

It's funny how just a random, very overdue outing can set one thinking so much.

No photo-whoring, no silence (even when there is, shortly broken by a laugh and more banter). Just an publicly unacknowledged fact that we've grown up. But for that four hours or so, how young we have once been. When passion dominated more of our nerves and veins, than the stilted slumber that we call maturity. When raging fires have died down to reveal only glowing embers and a mere acceptance of our life, along with the vivid expectations of what's to come.

We have, devolved, I suppose.

But it sure is fun hanging out with old friends, even acquaintances. I guess it's partly due to how we at least have more similarities than acquaintances now. And how we're learned to live and forget, due to the many other sins we've experienced and committed.

But mostly because it harks back to the old, golden age of our civilisation. Back when we were young, dreams weren't fleeting, and we were raring to go forth.

To what? The future? If only things didn't work by relative comparisons.