/// in search of lost time

Listening to The Loving Sounds of Static by Mobius Band, and remembered a rainy night in Ostermalm, just right after you left. Pinning away and floating in love. I also remember a grey dusk, and making Pancit Canton and deciding if I should go to Tradgarden or not, walking back and forth the top floor apartment. Deciding the last minute that I should. Then you were there, sitting under the bridge. Pingpong in the rain and the tingle of my skin. Oh Midsommarkransen, oh the pink lights.

It feels like a decade ago. Why do memories, especially my own, feel that way? Sometimes, even when I am still in the moment, I already miss it.

Android sent me a postcard, I got it a few minutes ago. It was written from one of my favourite happy places, SP, and I could hear him drifting away and pinning over memories of us too: breakfast for dinner, building cameras. That was August, that was July, but it could also have been 1901.

Proust and his madeleine cookie.

Memories, don't fade away. Stay.