Time piles up, layer by layer, and at one point the vast accumulation of time inevitably led to its own conclusions.

The world provided by these photos calibrates with the subjective world that I remembered, and it seems that I could finally see an accurate self, a more accurate self in the past time.

That image is so accurate and unassuming. The self was doing what it was supposed to do every day, living what it was supposed to live, without any pretense of wantings.

I stood at the gate to my past self, and the portal was strangely calm and stable. In another second, the self saw me, gently smiled, and went on with her business.