The dormant beast

When I was a kid, I used to wake up at night to sit under the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. I would feel an inexplicable sweetness and joy as I watched the twinkling lights and the reflection of colours all while dozing at the sound of peaceful Christmas lullabies. Those moments used to fill me with an odd feeling of serenity. I don’t particularly enjoy sitting there anymore but those songs still fill me with joy. Despite all the changes that might hit someone’s personality, beliefs, or thinking, one can never break free of some sweet childhood memories. They glue to the brain and inhabit the soul like a dormant beast only to upraise again in a sudden like a splash of an old odour.