Nostalgia is a burden. To see elements of what our life was in this changed world.
But to receive no feedback on bad adverts, reality television, political scandals and the such like.

The petty things that make up the days. Feeling that this is still our time. A small century fractured with bad poetry and verse that never reaches you.

Videos of you are still difficult, as are the words once exchanged.

People say that if it's meant to be, then it will be.
But looking at watches, clocks, and sunrises, make me feel it is not our time and never will be.

You know it's bad when listening to Leona Lewis and Mariah Carey from the comfort of this now single bed in Reading evokes some stirring of the emotions.