...and my mind saturated and heavy with memories.

I have began to hate memories. Even sunshine makes me wistful. Everything is full of memories. I go to library and borrow a book, because it reminds me of my past, of the first times when I read that book. I watch a movie, because it reminds me of my past. I listen to a song, because it reminds me of the past. I walk somewhere, because it reminds me of past. And even sunshine makes me feel wistful, it is full of memories.

My past is already too long and there are too many memories.

***(or maybe not so many)