On a whim, I dug up the old Hello Kitty bag sitting on my shelf containing relics from my childhood.
I found a postcard from an old kindergarten friend who currently attends the same university. We don't talk anymore.
I found a pocket phonebook containing five phone numbers -- the five friends I was inseparable from back in kindergarten, only one of whom I still talk to today.
I found four memo books, all only half-filled with short stories that had been my attempts to pin down my dreams onto paper.
It was like looking at a collection of decomposing butterflies.
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