tirkesto
All those pictures. All those memories. Not that they're important memories, or that this is nostalgic or fun or exciting. It's just a collection of pictures from when I was seven, playing soccer; just another slideshow. Whatever. I watch it so many times, but no matter how many times I think it over, all that comes to my mind is Michael Scott saying "montaaaaage". That's just... that's ridiculous.
I remember. Many golden days of childhood, the memories of yore now gone to waste in my own festering pile of abuse, idleness, and failure. Do you remember? Remember the lavender days, running in pastures together? We would stain our pants and laugh and fall in the fields hugging and joking and playing. I am beginning to forget - why can't I remember? I have been away from the fields for too long - those fields of lavender, of course. And the grain, and the corn - I can never forget those. Those, I remember. But I am still lost in the fields of my own mind, the restrictions I place on my own pasture. I am losing my memories to the drought of society's passion.