the featherquill.

how life changes in six months, i don't know.

you probably go back, smarter, older, wiser, more jaded, and yet more cheerful. you want to go back bringing tales of exploits, of wonders, like the sailors of yesteryear.

with the mere difference being no bards to sing your song.

it's this time where you try to find something you desperately want to remember. some souvenir to chip off the wall or some photo to take to immortalise a place/person. or sum up the entire experience somehow, and how it was worth it, life-changing or extraordinary. being cursed with poor memory dictates that i not waste time doing the former.

but i'm content with the developments, with the connections. perhaps a little bit more time would be nice, now that there is so much more to savour and kindle. to sit down, chat, and talk about so many difference perspectives, life problems, life histories, and amidst all the silent judgement and contention, being able to find some common grounds of agreement.

but perspectives change, and i suppose one of that is how you define relationships, and time. some things you leave it as that, with a tinge of regret and sadness, but still happy that it was there, at that moment. at least you discovered it, somewhat. at least you know what's out there, and part of it has been imprinted upon you, and something's for the better.

then again, having a memory so bad, you might just go back, and be your old self again.