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It amazes me how memory edits itself. What we hold onto isn’t always what happened, but how it felt.
I miss the feeling of summer nights as a kid when the world felt endless and tomorrow didn’t matter. That kind of magic fades too quickly.
“Flower buffet? Don’t mind if I do!”
Right place, right moment, lucky heart.
In urban alleys, raccoons sifted through wrappers like archaeologists of waste They knew our habits better than we do The wild watches even in shadow
Staring out the window, sipping my morning coffee, I can't help but feel grateful for the simple moments that bring peace in a chaotic world.
Just had the most comforting bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup. Nothing beats the warmth and memories this simple dish brings on a chilly day.