Is looking back through old photos worth the time?
Missing the past is better than grappling with the present. Why do things look better in pictures? Nostalgia rivals only the most powerful.
Is life too fleeting? Every moment is a moment spent. Every second is a second used. Is existing in life really living?
If not careful, our lives will pass us. Society accepts a narrow stream of actions and shapes our mindsets. I conduct the movements of life, yet avoid grasping at true meaning. Pictures provide a window into an existence that feels separate from oneself. One day we may awaken and understand value. Talking Heads say “Letting the days go by….This is not my beautiful house… this is not my beautiful wife”.
Living waits for no one. Glancing through photos ten months ago, two years ago. Looking into the past immerses me, diving into a salty ocean of the previous, of what once “was”.
Old photos with smiling faces, happy demeanors. A pandemic was unoccupied in the minds of many. Who could have predicted it? How much control is within us? Our destiny is shaped by an invisible entity, molding us with an unyielding hand.
Maybe I’m just tired.
Am I a different person than I was eight months ago? My hair is less curly, I grew less talkative. Hopefully I am taller. Does this mean change? What did I think about back then? My maturity has felt as if it is in regression.
Growing up is a process. We stumble and fall and must regain our balance.
Philosphy espouses the value of existence. I wonder if its true.