Upon looking at albums of a younger me, an odd feeling came upon me as I looked at myself. It is something like bitterness, as I regretted what I had lost to ascend in the social ladder of human society. Also something that is wonderful and when I saw pictures of the young me, I was smiling perhaps from both bitterness and happiness. To see myself before all the complications, and see peace within those eyes, to know that there was a moment in my pathetic life that had received some level of happiness filled me with a strange sense of joy.
I have hated to have my photos taken during my childhood only to enjoy it now as a pathetic attempt to remember the memories that I want to but cannot remember. Looking back at the photos a part of me felt what I was feeling at that very moment which is why I make sure nowadays to have my picture taken when i am happy as a reminder of happy times. Of course, since most of the time I am rather depressed the desire for me to take pictures of myself is extremely rare. For that, I thank my parents for taking photos of me despite my protests as a child during my years of adolescence as the happiness and innocence pres4ent at me during that one omement in time was relived for a brief second.
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