Ghosts of The Past

I went home over this past weekend, and a few things happen when I go home. I eat way too much. I somehow manage to pick apart my already-bare closet and leave a tornado of evidence. I always go through my old things, even though I know this is a danger zone to proceed with caution only. And yet, I never take mind of my own warning as I frivolously flip through old notes, pictures, letters, and every other old memory that I keep tucked away in a shoebox and out of mind. These shoeboxes used to be my own … Continue reading Ghosts of The Past