changes
A change comes.
Reflections and whatnot abound. Out with the old, in with the new.
And so I'm here, reading about what used to happen, and what I had to say about it, and what it meant, in retrospect. And it was dry writing then, and clearly, I'm writing fairly dryly now. I miss the record of what happened and when. There's a whole raft of things that have happened in the meantime. Changes in my world, changes to myself, time moving on. And while they are somewhere here, now, within whatever memory I have, this 1 in 7,000,000,000 skin-bounded bag of mostly water, they feel somewhat lost to time. And I regret that. That they aren't out there, recorded somewhere to review and rehash. Is this a renewal? A return? Perhaps, perhaps not. Only time will tell. But there's this, right here, and there's that.