Lost and Never Forgotten


There are many things in life that are considered important to me. They can go from living things to inanimate objects, maybe an idea or a memory.

Photographs are very important to me. They have a reserved area in my heart where all things matter. Photographs tell tales that your mind can venture to but your tongue can't really taste. As such, it brings memories, pleasant or not.

I'd call myself a rather sentimental person. As much as display a strong front, I actually have deep admiration in things which have deep meanings wrapped up on them. Photographs can easily prompt my feelings of nostalgia.

The thing about photographs is that each of them has a different story to tell. No matter how badly it ends up between who's in the photo with you, the photo will still exist. People will change but the memories don't. I can look at it in hours and smile for days.

Losing a photograph is never easy. I have close to a thousand photos in my phone right now and I have never deleted a photo. It's difficult to do that. Photographs don't come and go. It was snapped for a purpose, at a right timing and there's no way anyone can recapture that moment again.

Losing a photograph is like completing a 1000-piece puzzle only to realise that there's a missing piece.  You feel complete. It looks complete but it actually isn't.






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I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.