It's been 25 years now, and truthfully, time sometimes blurs the memory.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
It takes a long time to bring the past up to the present.
Time moves in one direction, memory in another.
The notion of time bothers me. You look at thirty-year-old photographs and realize how the time has passed.
I can barely remember what I was like 36 years ago when I was 21 years old.
Memories are like stones, time and distance erode them like acid.
The past is still visible. The buildings haven't changed, the layout of the streets hasn't changed. So memory is very available to me as I walk around.
It's my memory, and what happened between that moment 10 or 15 years ago and now, there's a lot of gray area.
There are moments of life that we never forget, which brighten and brighten as time steals away.
Memory is a fiction we tell ourselves: just a piece of the truth.
Sometimes the past seems too big for the present to hold.
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