Time. Warp. Weirdness.
With me moving countries and continents quite regularly, it's hard to reduce your household to thirty kg's again and again, but then there's things that you hesitate to throw away, like a collection of good books or some really cool DVDs. Or photo albums (remember those?). Or comfy jumpers. Stuff like that. So I keep a large room behind a padlock in one of those anonymous warehouses in a capital within the European Union where I store all things that quickly have to go before I board another plane to a new home. Today I visited that place, and it was like cracking open a time capsule. The first thing I picked up was a folder with the collected letters from all the women I loved (in a spiritual sense, of course. What did you think?), starting in the early eighties. And a bunch of photos that went with them. Bloody hell, was I once thin. Also, two ancient address books full of people I forgot I knew once.
It's good to wallow in the old times once in a while. Looking back it's obvious that they must have been fun-filled and carefree. It's nice to remember what brilliant times one had and what amazing people were met within them. But would I trade them for the present?
Never.