Sometimes the past is beyond reach, beyond the veil of memories. You cling to what once was, remembering a better time. A happier time or that one moment without regrets, without the mist of worry. The good old days. Sometimes you try to hold on to that feeling. You struggle, but assemble the pieces once more, you recreate that particular shard of your past. An illusion, a mere comfort, like an imperfect mirror with cracks along the edge. The good old daze.¬†Or maybe, just maybe, Cindy doesn’t realize the imperfection of the past.

But this is no time for poetry. This is no time for clarity. This is 2012. The Mayans invade in 12 months, according to poorly crafted videos on youtube and some people being susceptible to pseudoscience.

Happy New Year! Viva the resolutions!