Reading through old posts and delighting.
What a chronicle.
Seriously considering printing them off and collating them into some form of a diary in an openly vain attempt of recollecting the past few years.
Also undoubtedly embarrassed about the bizarre intrigue I have into my own life. Is this normal? Passing it off as literary fandom rather than personal vanity as that would be concerning.
Moral of the story, I need to write more. It is so much fun (and so enchantingly nerve-wracking) to read back on such nonsense that seemingly held importance once upon a time.
There is a beauty in that though, I think.
Lovely to revisit what once held my thoughts. Lovely in a 'thank goodness this is retrospect/hindsight' kind of way.
Loving NOW.
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