Dulu

I was looking through some pictures which were taken during my uni years in Berlin, before I came back to Malaysia last year.

They're a bit over a year old but it seems so far away, so distant. The wedding, the soccer matches, the night trips walking around Berlin - engulfed in smokey haze, running on expired film. The ones which were taken during my second year in uni have an even more ancient impression on me. I feel some sort of sadness, something pulling my heartstrings looking at the pictures. How full of hope we were then, how ready to embrace the big world. How filled with enormous confidence we were. How we took for granted that we were in the center of attention, strolling in classes late with our chocolate frappucinos in our hands. How nothing seemed impossible, how days were filled with things that made us happy - shopping trips after classes, cappuccinos at the local cafe, sitting on the grass of Humboldt Uni's back garden, hitting the student parties, getting in the subways half drunk, as loud and obnoxious as clueless students can only be.

Why do I feel so jaded?