I peeked into my past today and found that what I thought was, wasn’t. I suspect there is a small chance that what I saw had been altered in some way, and I felt somewhat slighted. I saw elements of my presence as though my ghost had been haunting, however, and I felt vindicated. Or honored? Last night I peeked somewhere else and found that what I thought was, most certainly was, and I felt validated.

Moving forward is difficult when you want to live up to your past.

But I’m out of practice. I need to cut myself some slack.

. . .

When you fall off the horse, you screw something up, though not terribly. When you fall off the wagon, the consequences are harsh. But you can get back on both.

I stay clear of wagons, so I have none to fall off of. I rode a Clydesdale for a while, though.

Ugh.

. .

I miss the challenge more than anything.

.