Sometimes it's weird how the little things
make the most sense. You are reading
through a book and the description of dry withered leaves gets you reminiscing about the perfect
yesterday. Maybe it was perfect, but those days are gone and thus you choose to
remember the good in them. You wonder why the present scares you and the future
frightens you the more. You eventually decide to live in the past because it
seems much more familiar. But who are you fooling? The past is gone despite the
numerous times you relish the thoughts of the beautiful silhouettes.
All in all, the past is like
those notes people like to read at the last minute to be aware of what the
tests require. The past may offer a guideline for
the future. You don't have to do things in a similar way. It is imperative to
take on the adventure of the unknown and that's what life is all about. My past,
however, is one interesting story; a
story of a book that incorporates numerous themes which I might feed on in any article of 'Down that Lane'.
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