To speak in the vernacular for a moment, "shout outs" to Vancouver. I'm going to try out some advice and keep this short.
Leontius doesn't gouge his eyes out. It's ok if you have no idea what I'm talking about. Google it.
I think there's a way in which every experience can become nostalgic. I've talked about nostalgia before, but I hadn't really given much thought as to what it is. Nostalgia is like some kind of transformation that allows you to escape from the limitations of the world. The best barometer of nostalgia is whether you can find some sliver of humour, no matter how dark or wry, from any imaginable experience.
To see the comedy in tragedy and vice versa is the accomplishment of the philosopher, but maybe also of the survivor. Philosophy is a shortcut to the muscles built from carrying experience. As we carry the weight of experience, as we shape ourselves to carry it better, we tell stories to ourselves of the loads we bear. So long as you can tell this story the burden becomes lighter, like trading a brick for a painting of a brick, until finally you stop and look at the absurd piece of shopping mall art you carry and can't remember why you bought it.
Time is like an underpaid teaching assistant, who talks a lot but doesn't really prepare his students for the exam. They'll probably still graduate eventually.