Culture is NOT a Type of Beer

Reminisce before me.

Its funny how singular my memory can play.
I've been looking back at old photos and videos,
of myself in my old life on the West Coast.
Four or five years hence.
It's all sunsets and blue skies
and brown skin and blue eyes
and green grass and fitness.
Now all I can see,
peeking out through the slender square of my window
is grey skies and cold rolled down Melbourne winter
and all I can feel is dirt and dust and damp.
Lungs that wont heal,
post flus that wont pass.

Help to stop you reminiscing.