I am here in a coffeeshop and across me looks like a group of young architects ogling over a blueprint. Whenever I have an encounter with architects, I always remember him.
I did not stay long enough to see him get his license. If only we parted nicely, I would have congratulated him. Because in my heart of hearts, I am truly proud of him for making it.
A documentation of sporadic whims. A repository of random memories. A keeper of fleeting thoughts. As Jessie Wallace puts it, "we are the sum of all moments of our lives."
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