I wonder how productive I’d be if I spent more time looking forward and less time looking back. Then I remember I secretly enjoy being a sentimental drip, so I’ll probably never break that habit.
I’ve spent my weekend listening to Foals’ back catalogue and laughing at the photographs in the boxes stashed under my bed. I know people store all their pictures online nowadays, but I still print everything out because I refuse to fully embrace technology, or let go of the past. I beamed at pictures of my friends & I circa 2009 with our bad haircuts, questionable fashion sense, and fresh/drunken smiles. I used to take my camera everywhere (much to their dismay), so there’s stacks of unflattering pictures just waiting to be uploaded to the internet.
Somewhere along the line though, I stopped bringing my camera with me and I stopped documenting nights out. We used to be outside The Pink Toothbrush’s doors at 21:45, half-pissed, every Friday & Saturday. I used to take embarrassing photos of us all, and I used to write about it all the time in my diary. Eventually; budgets, the amount of leisure time, and people’s tastes shifted. No photographs and no diary entries become the new habit, and now I have less pictures to laugh at and less words to cringe at.
BUT – the good thing about habits is you can always break them, so hopefully in a few years time when I unearth that box of visual treasure again, I’ll have new photos of all of us doing the exact same things, but with slightly less grace and more obvious bags under our eyes.
I must stop looking back so often though. I’m in danger of getting chronic neck ache.