29-5-17

One day too I will look back on these days with nostalgia. I will forget how bad they were at times. I think about this when I walk from my house to Ethan’s because soon, I will never do that walk again. I will no longer walk there crossing my fingers at the top of the hill, wishing for the next twelve hours to never end, or stopping at the edge of his drive to admire the thousand sparkling yellow streetlights below. I felt introspective walking past Hallamshire House on my way home today and the sound of ‘Let’s Dance to Joy Division’ was coming from the pub garden. It all felt kind of poignant.

11-4-17

I know you can’t repeat the past. I knew that when we went back to Park Hill in December and afterwards, I felt an unexplainable sadness as we sat in the cafe. I wanted to go to the creek today like we did last Easter. That day I described as a scene from a film. But even if we went, it wouldn’t be the same.

23-3-17

I’m sitting on my bed collaging and looking at the cut-up magazines all around me. I can see glimpses of different lives. Is any of this worthwhile? Probably not. I am jealous sometimes of people who aren’t as nostalgic as me, who do not feel such a need to frantically document and create to hold onto the past. Other times I’m jealous of people who do these things but do them better than me. Nostalgia excludes ugliness and that’s why it’s so dangerous.