Worn Out…

I’m sat in a cafe, and it’s narcotic, I’m guessing from the decor that its trying to relive the past.

I’m almost a quarter of the way through my bacon sandwich, it’s nice, but I should have indulged in a full breakfast. You see, the table adjacent to mine did, and now they are gorging themselves on fodder that could have been mine.

And as I paused between the last and next mouthful a wave of nostalgia washed over me.

I have just been to the cobblers to have the heels of my boots fixed, they were in desperate need of work due to the mileage they have recently completed.

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I’m know watching tables empty and tables refill, and I’m wondering how many of those who have stuffed their faces, quenched their thirst remember the ‘Good old days?’. . .

I chuckle to myself why do we call them the ‘good old days’ as if time now elapsed was full of life more vigorous more fulfilling than these days we now occupy?.

. . .’very peculiar!’. . .

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A lady is rummaging through her historic looking bag, she has a desperate, anxious look upon her weather worn face. 

I wonder if she is feeling nostalgic? I wonder if the decor on the uneven walls has taken her mind to bygone days? 

She has now stopped searching, it was a pen that eluded her frantic hands, and with head tilted she has began to write. . .

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I’m sat trying to remember all that was good about the ‘good old days’, and quite frankly I can’t think of one thing that warrants such a term!.

Ok, petrol was economical and a mortgage wasn’t required to purchase weekly supplies, but besides the pressures a recession brings, life now, is ‘great’.

Are you mad?. . .I hear you cry. . .

Well, it’s like this. . .

Reflecting on the past is nice, as our minds eliminate the traumatic events and focus only on all that was enjoyable, thus, a pleasant trip down memory lane is achieved.

But it is the here and now, the unexplored future that overrides, upstages and defuncts the past.

It is forgetting what lies behind that enables us to look forward, with expectancy, to all that lays ahead . . .

And finally. . .

I am closer now than in the era where nostalgia reigns, to finally taking off my worn out boots, placing them before the cobbler and saying, keep them!. . .’I have finished the race,  I have fought a good fight, I am going home I need these boots no longer.

Let each of us create a nostalgic future. . .By living life to the max. . .