Starting over, looking back.
We step away from the past but still cling to ego. A story as old as any other.
And likely just as deadly.
Scores of new beginnings were long ago numbered. A constant reminder that finality awaits even the most mercurial among us.
Change itself is mostly welcomed. If only to prove that we are still alive, that we still hunger for second chances.
And even when pain is labeled progress, we suspect that progress will only lead us right back. Because sometimes stolen wisdom is just a false memory.
But it’s not as if we can tell the difference.
Begin again, anyway.
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