I just happened across some old photos and realized with a mild surprise that my reaction to them was almost purely devoid of melancholy, pretty much just pure happy memories. I mean really, this could mean something significant, cause that's pretty fkn uncharacteristic. At least it seems a good direction in which to head, because as we all know Nostalgia Will Waste You. Here's a sample, all circa 1997-1999: above, It Laid In Bed With NyQuil Eyes, location indeterminate but probably NYC; below, normal Atlanta kitchen behavior circa 1997-1999; below that, me obviously harassing my Nan in Phoenix, 1999.
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