It is amazing how nostalgia works.

I don't wanna remember one thing of that place and suddenly the memories come wafting in the rain. Rain can't be ignored afterall.

Well, people are now beginning to spread and alowly wane away into obscurity. An empty hole remains. But that is what nostalgia is always. A search into an emptiness.

You know all the time that nothing remains of what once was. Yet you want to be there, hurting yourself with that blinding sense of loss, sometimes even for uncherished moments.

Whatever, rest is better left unsaid. Nostalgia for itself, is quite maddening. And I don't think it fit to write with the insanity creeping upon me.
Who knows tomorrow this might be made into a book, a worse thing ever!