Читать книгу Sunday Hindsight Diaries - - Страница 2

Sunday hindsight diaries is what you write when nostalgia makes it difficult to sit still, buzzing under your skin like an enormous beehive. It’s in the first sunny days of spring, when the heat is luring you out, to the tight buds and puddles and dogs. It’s in the fields, moving like tv static, ready to tell you the stories of those who came before. It’s in the falling leaves, layering up in empty alleyways, umbrellas and knitted scarves. It’s in the first days of winter, when snow is all around the city. It’s fresh and crystal clear, it stings with pain, but you can’t wait for it to come around. Those subtle flashbacks are different with every season and that’s what makes them so interesting and exciting. Those memories will never change and you’ll keep seeing the same faces under the glowing street lights at night. What you’ve written at 16 will remain what you’ve written at 16. And at 20 you will be jealous of her sweet teenage nonchalance, healing the wounds of hopeful blindness on your heart. Your past isn’t going anywhere, a good reason to overanalyze it. And even a better way to see just how far you’ve already come. One day you will wake up to being flooded with regret and sorrow. The other – to a rush of affection and love. Every emotion is falling into place so gracefully, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. And those are the things you will write about in Sunday hindsight diaries.