Nostalgia.

I just came home from walking home (because i left my ez-link card in the school photocopy machine by accident and it was too late to get it back and I already spent an unnecessary $1.50 on a. Standard ticket, so I might as well not waste any more money and walk home.)and there was many thoughts passing throu my head. Wanted to present this in a nice structured way, but as I walked my thoughts wandered, so I might as well present it as it was.

The scenery was pretty nice. I saw the coffee shop that had been there since I was born- and probably before that- being revamped, not knowing if the original tenants would be coming back. I saw a URA sign saying that the plot of green grassland was up for sale, and I missed the place dearly, and I don't want into be gone - gone like how Kovan Melody took the place of another plot of land opposite Heartland Mall, like how beside it another condo has sprung up, and the trees that I used to cut through chopped down.

I thought, it's been so long since I hast walked through this path, this route. So long since I walked into Goodrich Park (which I didn't do), so long since I bought stuff at the local minimart, so long since I've experienced the changes along this boulevard of memories...

Growing up can be so hard.

And all too soon, I was back at what is now familiar to me. Perhaps all too familiar, these buildings, drab and brown, telling the world that there was no sign of life in them but for the warm orange glow of lights of units within. I tried to stifle the tears as i walked to the lift - thankfully i didnt cry. I do regard this block of flats as my home now, but somehow, it's less rich a life than before. I saw the beautiful sunset, saw the columns of seemingly never ending beige walls and columns forming the exterior of my block, imagined green creepers spreading out over them, a sight for sore eyes, fruits hanging tantalisingly to those below.
I saw the manufactured, artificial triangular green grass patch, saw the private apartments next to it, people in their units, in the place they call home.

And I stood still for a few seconds, letting my thoughts run wild, run freely, unlike the person they belonged to.

Memories.