What next?

So the only thing I did was take the photo down. Childhood memories, it seems eons ago.

I can't stop my mind from the thoughts that appear. The tshirts, the songs, the postcards. Even Ted Bakri and his faithful red scarf. The essence of ideas, all that converge on the same point, have been threaded through each and every fabric of time. As time only lapsed when these ideas were weaved. Ideas, of the past and the mysterious future, will always be intertwined with time. As long as there is time, then these ideas shall remain. Etched in the cold granite walls of identity. As the earth completes yet another half of its voyage around the sun, all this shall be 1/6 of me. Left to grow smaller and smaller as we fade into senescence.