Constant Connection

Remember the days when you were curious enough to try new things without worrying about the consequences that may have affected you to the extent that it could have changed your decisions? Those days looked for the joy and happiness in every moment possible in your life then and it didn’t require any validation or verification of the reasons for the type you felt. There was no pretending and no false positives. The confusion matrix of your life didn’t even existed. But when came that day and that night and then another night with different people at different places I found that I never belonged there. Now with every visit I am new to the places I’ve roamed around in my childhood for hours and hours. The moment magically faded away and the vestiges had no importance until now. There is a constant connection between me and the leftovers or abnormal yet beautiful relics. Now when I look back I get that bad feeling at the pit of my stomach that helps me to rebuild myself and forget the fact that is still clinging to me. I have managed not to pay attention to the things, but am I not missing something?

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