I'm here, mostly lurking behind a few books, several papers, and hours of trying to remember the most basic steps of writing.
We often train to go forward, strive, strain, and struggle to move beyond where we have been, but going back is a foreign exercise that has my mind feeling like it's a dog chasing its tail --the exertion is aimless and confusing at best.
There is a divide between those who enjoy and appreciate a glance back, and those who shrug it off as irrelevant bits of self.
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