It’s gone and come back

Morning and I finished my cup of tea whilst sitting near the window looking at babes play in the garden.
I'm waiting for my garden chairs and tables to reach so I can sit comfortably and go about my day as I used to once.

Each morning as I am beginning to wake up, small pinpricks of flashbacks from my life a few months ago broadcast themselves like a small feature film with utmost clarity.

I can see the clothes I wore while treading small gingko leaves under my suede boots, the shirt I wore to have a solo supper at the nearby Japanese restaurant, the long walks I had with my friend before we could finally reach the coffee shop we were looking for, my solo, almost therapeutic escapades on public transport to reach a certain place where certain imported products were sold.
The small restaurants from which I'd get a vat of noodles packed for lunch when I was too lazy, the dingdong delivery men who often populated the compound coming in droves along with package delivery persons.

My coffee runs, my sidekick store runs, my scooter rides to the nearby superstore and the annoyance of carrying all the stuff on the scooter as it rained.
The immediate presence of hundreds of foods, juice stores, tea beverages shops , cafés every 20 metres. The fun of sitting down for a small bite to eat before I embarked on any mission outside.
The scanning of codes, the paying through alipay, the bar streets and hundred of people walking to and from, the smell of barbecues.

I lay on my bed this morning and as I tried to wake up I saw everything in 4K.
As wakefulness begins to dawn this film
reel begins to fade and now I sit think about what I saw.

These are memories which I don't want to get nostalgic or emotional about.
It happened. It because a part of my life.
It shaped me, imprinted on me and it'll always be with me.
I am now somewhere else, and I have to let this place make me new memories.