Just couple hours after I put my luggage on the room, my brother contacted a friend.
A boy that was the sort of 'godfather' for all the boys in the neighbourhood.
Not the oldest one, yet the trickiest, and probably the most adventurous boy ever lived in this place.
Walking alongside with him to his house, he told us one by one people who has moved from this place.
Mention every names, where they've gone, and the story so on and on.
New people moved into old houses, some houses that used to be so neat now being abandoned, etc, etc.
How the little kiddies we never even care now are adults, going to college, works,
even have kiddies of their own.
Practically almost every changes happen in our old place.
It was just a chat, and I know I've prepared for that topic since long time ago.
Yet I can't help noticing his bitter laugh.
Maybe I'm not the only one longing for the 'good ol' days' after all.
This place looks old, sad, and tired.
I came back feeling gloomy. The talk with parents of my friends made me reached a point where I have to put a happy mask on my face.
I tried to wash away the feelings. Maybe it's just the dark streets and the exhaustion.
My days are numbered here. Parasiting my mind with negative thoughts just going to spoil it all.
Winter on its way, that doesn't mean the spring has over.
A something to be really grateful of.
