kakanggata

The heavy air of nostalgia surrounds me.

I have just finished reading the daily news. I read some more on different sites. I scanned through new photos saved in my bookmark. Downloads are not yet complete. Hitting refresh on the browser wasn’t helping. Miss, who I was waiting for since last night, wasn’t giving any sign. And I still refused to start my pile of work. There was nothing left to do. Then, it came slowly.

It was not really my intention, but somehow it only needed a few points and clicks of the mouse to lead me to the folder of my very first photos and websites. Like taking something out from a dusty box whose existence was already forgotten, it struck me to be looking at mementos of my past. Four year old memories and musings. Some even stir older ones, from as long back as childhood. I wondered at my old writings. They lacked perspective, but they were more enthusiastic. The photos were raw, technically inferior and deprived of style, but they bring back old days of shooting uninfluenced by an audience. After seeing them again, I fumbled, thinking if what I’ve lost and gained as I grew older was of any good.

The slow parade continues. More reveries and flashbacks are getting into the line, while the resonant plea  of some forgotten crooner playing in some cracked stereo of a neighbor leads the lethargic ensemble.

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Salvaged from one of my old websites. Me and my brother.