In your travels across this moonscape we call Life, you may wander into seemingly benign gas pockets that litter the landscape. These pockets are called 'Nostalgia', and they are in fact, a miasma.
While you linger there, you will find yourself hallucinating about a past that never quite existed, abondoning a present staring you between the eyes and eventually forgetting entirly a future you owe yourself.
Eventually, you will get lathargic, lie down and go into a coma; with what's left of your consciousness; a shrinking kernel in a dying husk, dreaming forever about 'the good old days'.
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