every year’s a souvenir / that slowly fades away

(thanks for the title, lee)

i’ve spent the last hour re-reading my old blog. brings back good memories. the funny thing is that the experiences themselves don’t come back to me as vividly as the process of writing about them do: the quiet room, familiar music, time spent deliberating over every word.

i’ve written a lot these past two years in bschool, but as wingerz so sweetly reminds me, it’s nothing that anyone wants to read.