Reminiscence. Of place
With every pace cleanse every memory. Butterflies fill your stomach. And when you're finally there, it feels like you twirl. In a good way. Like you've been absorbed by the old swing of music that you can't recall, but you terribly sure you love it. And so you dance in your mind. Reliving the moments that were done there. The house where you spent some fragments of your life. It feels so good to remember and to think that you did have delightful childhood.
How you addressing that feeling? Nostalgia. Happy nostalgia. A reminiscence. I think that's the word. And as my childhood was spent in several places, I'm planning on to pay a visit to each. I think that will be a gratifying project.