nostalgic ritual

it is at strange hours like last night that i began doing strange things. i picked up anais nin again, gosh, it has been a month since kit gave that book to me. rereading it again, the lucid words that drill shivers into the soul, and the cauldron of emotions in an instance masked my senses. at the same time, the nostalgia from memories came to consummate those unshed tears in the eyes in that space of my room. loneliness and silence didnt seem to matter much anymore. soon, i took out all of my books, and started to wrap them.one by one.. each book marks a significant time in my life, and that ritual was an act of recollecting those great blocks of fading memories.. it is when you realise, cleansing against the resonance of my memory, that many people have actually strided quite a bit with you in this life.. by the books they have lovingly given to you.