Thinking about time is always a complicated process. It is an all encompassing concept, such a grandiose notion. Time.
I automatically associate the past with nostalgia. What a strange concept “nostalgia” is. Not only the thought of it, but the feeling; that longing feeling. But I love how it is totally malleable.
My problem is that I am nostalgic for things that have never happened to me. People, places, events, objects from the past, all fictional, yet I long for them. Moments from novels I’ve admired, from movies I have enjoyed, from moments from the stories of others. I hear a song and think “I remember the moment I first heard this: standing with you, in the autumn wind, talking of the future and laughing.” But that never happened … or did it? If I feel as though I remember a moment that never occurred in my past, does it have any less emotional than that of a “real” memory? Weight
Fake, imagined, a fleeting creation of the artistic mind.
This can be comforting, these creations of mythic moments. But these creations disappear as soon as they are fashioned. They are purely utilitarian; they serve their purpose and then dissolve into time.