This is something that everyone has, and yet, it can exist in so many ways, in anyway of the beholder. It's called memories. To some, it's like a computer folder, click and all the image and documents start popping up. To another group of less fortunate people, it's like a ghost haunting them whenever they are most vulnerable. To some, it's like albums of photos, whenever they think of their past experience, pictures start to appear.
To me, my memories of the past are like layers upon layers of books, stacked into shelves properly labelled. Call me an overly-organised person? And yet I am not. But when memories are concerned, I treasure them like diamonds from heaven. And now, as I flip through the book "School life" I suddenly picture my form 1 self walking upon the doorstep of my classroom. Silently sitting and observing "strangers" in my new environment. Now, this strangers are one of my closest group friends.
Turn to the pages of "Friends", I suddenly feel a strong hit on my head, too much things are coming back. But all this is a blessing, for I can say with much pride that I have a lot of friends and still expanding. What can I say? The friends I lost touch with in KL 6 years ago reconnected with me via facebook. What a moment in my life, and they still remember me when I had a gathering with them!
Turn to the page of "Love", I feel a sense of wonder. Love works in such simple yet powerful ways. So many types of love to think about. Sad and happy. I end here.
But often times, there are repetitions between the books. I don't mind, all are worth remembering.
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