Twinket

listening to: Santana
      “I can’t tell anymore if I’m coming or I’m going.”

Okay, here’s the deal (wait, the PC spellcheck doesn’t recognise ‘okay’ as a word and suggested Tokay?)

Here’s the deal.
I’ve lived in the same house since I was six months old. That comes to about 23 years. A variety of trinkets as evidence of a girl growing up – dolls, pyjamas, memory boxes, diaries, broken earrings, certificates and report cards, old uniforms, Enid Blyton’s, Sweet Valley High’s, yellowed photographs of days at the zoo with mama in an oversized floppy hat, kindergarten concert memorabilia, high school yearbooks, cassette tapes, Jonathan Brandis posters…

Yeah I have all that stashed somewhere in every corner of my room. Now, I have to unearth all of that, decide what to keep and what to say good bye to and then drag the whole lot to a new home and start rebuilding the memories all over again. Thankfully, nowadays, just because someone moves, it doesn’t mean they don’t get to see their friends anymore. If anything, being in town will make it easier to meet up, so let’s do that (t)okay since everyone more or less works/studies near each other.

The traffic jams will be something I get to bear less off for sure.
I’ll just miss having my very own backstreet boy
Thank god at least he has a car.
Which is something I’m going to have to start working on very soon.