Memories...reveries...I guess I am an escapist. Can't blame me. Everyone wants to live in that lovely fireside, either of the mind or beautiful old memories that gets better like old wine. It is like living in the past, yet being attuned to the present ever so acutely than before. It is as though the present would always exist in the shadows of the past, guided by it, prodded by it when necessary, and out-rightly overpowered by it. For me, the past is alife, heaving and totally breath-taking; the present is a work in progress ...almost drab, it only becomes magical, as if touched by Potter's wand, as soon as it passes. The future is an intrigue I try to make less intriguing by a fusion of the past and the present. WISH ME LUCK!
