The good Ol' days

A brief trip down memory lane.

The summer breeze grazes my face like a gentle feather.  I feel as if I am hovering over the ground below me, completely disconnected from the present.  Re living every step, I am back in 1992 and the elementary school playground is bustling with joy and laughter.  A time of innocence, when reality was blissful, living in the moment and nothing more.   When I walk by a park or playground and hear the laughter and cheer, I once enjoyed, it puts a smile on my face and reminds me that perhaps not all is lost in the agonizing world that is today.

          Overrun with emotion, I bolt into the living room and crash land on the couch.  Opening a book fresh off the press, I wonder what adventure and mystery awaits.  It’s 2001 and the first of many books has been released! Finally, my imagination can play.  Reading every word carefully, I absorb every sentence, as if the characters were speaking directly to me.  Weaving in and out of every character’s story, feeling completely immersed in this new world, unaware of my own, I can feel every bump on the train, every flick of the wand, every laugh and hand gesture that is in front of me.  I am content to live in this fictional world for just a bit longer.  Sadly, all good things must come to an end.  I often wonder why I have lost this lust for adventure, as I sit here staring at the tv, forcing myself to read.  Why is it so difficult to escape this world, with another one directly in front me?

I let out a sharp cough as the smell of burning pine floods my nostrils.  Frantically, I turn my head to breathe, only to find the smoke has followed me. The bonfire at our usual camp ground was roaring, the sun smiling down angelically.  In an instant I am back in 2002 and the volume on my Sony Walkman is turned to the max.   I walk bravely down the old and graveled roads in search of a new friendship, perhaps something more.  I reflect often to this part of my life, bemoaning the introvert that I have become, pondering if I will wilt away like a forgotten fern. 

As I sit hunched over a small break room table thinking of all the wonderful memories of innocence, adventure and imagination, I can’t help but wonder if nostalgia is something to remind us of a happier time, or rather a warning that we have lost touch with who we are. If we spend so much time reflecting on the past, are we truly content with the present? 

Reviews

[Just Kim]

I really like this, I am an introvert so i kinda connected with this write

[Samuel Dickens]

You took me with the narrator as he/she thought pensively about life and time's passage. Having once been a young introvert myself, this writing seems authentic. Well done.