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Amidst the sepia tones of yesteryears, I find myself wistfully drifting… Lost in the embrace of nostalgia, where memories bloom like vintage roses, their fragrance mingling with the whispers of the past…
In the heart’s hidden chambers, the echoes of laughter and tears resound… An ephemeral reverie, painted in the hues of bygone days, as cherished moments cascade like a gentle rain upon the soul…
Oh, how the embers of reminiscence dance, igniting a symphony of sentiment… The evanescent warmth of nostalgia, like a cozy hearth on a winter’s eve, cradling us in a tender embrace…
In the tapestry of memories, I roam, fingers tracing the threads of time… Each vignette, a tender caress, each sigh, a portal to forgotten worlds…
And there, in the heart of nostalgia’s sanctuary, I find solace and bittersweet joy… For it is in the realm of reverie that we reclaim the fragments of our past, weaving them into the tapestry of our present…
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΅〜 ೋ ♥ ೋ 〜΅
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If you would like me to read this to you…
∼ Reconstructing Christina ∼ 
Seems your observations become even more relevant the older one gets. My thoughts on the subject are encapsulated in a quote of mine from a few years back:
“When we wish for that, which once was, and we long for a life, which might have been, we become acutely aware that we now live on the other side of what had once been our future. Here we dwell with our memories, and live with fantasies of things that will never be.” ~Manfred
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That’s a potent quote my friend. And beautifully expressed. Thank you for sharing it.
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Weirdly, I have been thinking of the past with a friend recently. Of how things change, of how they stay the same, of how we move on and yet stay where we are.
This is awesome Christina. Never stop producing poetry like this.
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Thank you ever so much! For your ever so kind praise and encouragement. I shall indeed keep writing and sharing.
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