i bought a pack of red vines for no reason today other than that i used to eat them when i was a kid and i thought wouldn’t it be curious to be a kid again, but i ate them and it wasn’t. i remember walking into my kitchen and remembered our old kitchen and i thought of how big the stove used to be. i looked at the stove and seeing how it’s not so big, and nor am i, it made me feel big. i sat on the couch and saw a bit of grass peeking from the doors that lead to the backyard and thought of when my dad and i planted a strawberry garden when we lived in LA, and i tasted the red juice on my tongue. i remember watching a video a few days ago about how our brains can create false memories and make us believe in things that never actually happened and the older you get the more confident you become with things that never took place. and i remembered i’m not a kid, i can’t be a kid again. so that’s the thing with nostalgia, a self-inflicted fiction to a  better time, fabricated to make us miss what was never there to be missed.