June 2nd, 2018 / 6:51 PM
These ramadan are riddled with hot weather and longer than justifiable fasts. I don’t even have the perks to take a week off from them and I am happy with this path of life instead of the other side. After waking up, I either have too little energy to write down thoughts in a proper way or I am trying to finish all the books and graphic novels that I have already started. This is my 301st post that I promised to publish. I spent the last week reading old diaries and collecting all the events in a way that I can transform them into a digital way and push to the internet where I hope they outlive my biological life. Some scribbles have become irrelevant. Some are too personal. Some are broken. Some triggered regrets. This is the price of nostalgia. It brings not only happy feelings. This is not the first post that I have pushed to my blog today. From the first of Ramadan to yesterday, I made notes of all the posts that I have to post on archive. Five have already been pushed. I hope to get this done sooner and then place my diaries back in the locker. The note-taking stage has been done with. But as I look back into more old days, the written data is less and less. Three weeks of collecting notes and newspapers and then making them ready to be digitized while having long summer day fasts is not easy. But reading old things is reliving days gone-by. You can live the same day for more than once, only if it is better documented.