What better way to start my writing journey, dear readers, than explaining my rationale behind choosing this particular title for my website. Let’s begin by understanding me.

I am the kind of person who scrolls through old photo albums every other week because I love to drown myself in the pool of nostalgia from the “good old days” which eventually blinds me to the joys of the present. Why do I do this? I have no idea. Maybe because I think “past” me was better at everything. Academics. Friendships. Discipline. Emotions. Wanting something bad enough to actually do something about it. Maybe I crave that feeling again. And maybe the only way I know how is to look back at the “good old days”.

All I’m left with now is a memory. A memory of who I used to be and what I used to feel. I think the only way to be able to let go of that is not by forgetting it or keeping it buried deep inside me. Suppressing it never did anyone any good. Maybe if I do the opposite, if I let it all out somewhere and come back to it from time to time when I really need to, I won’t feel like I’m losing anything. My stories would be timeless. They wouldn’t hold me back from making new ones because I could come back to them whenever I wanted to because I know they exist here.

Every story that I have shines a different corner of the museum of the time of my life. A museum that encompasses different versions of me across different times. A museum that allows me to understand myself, reflect upon the past and shape my future.