(Source: rina-chenni)
(Source: rina-chenni)
(Source: hallowsoverhorcruxes, via cats--meow)
There are 525,600 minutes in a year.
I’ve lived through more than 9,460,800 minutes.
So many moments could be tucked away in pockets of minutes that I can’t remember. I wonder what minutes I’ve forgotten. I remember skipping (many) classes in year 9 to play the guitar in the empty music rooms of my old school with a friend. But the moment itself, I cannot isolate.
Sometimes I wonder if such memories are retained deep in cortical region by the other person. Did it really happen or was it some wonderful dream? Please confirm to me it’s state…
You were there, weren’t you?
So many lost minutes I’m now rather curious about at this hour of insomnia. But I ponder one question most fervently.
I wonder how many of those childhood minutes I’ve spent curled up in bed playing Pokemon Blue.
Sometimes it feels like the only time worth having is time spent alone.
(Source: rainbrosandcolors)