Or, maybe past is a exponential term. What if every time we grieve, we grieve not only for that moment, but carrying every other moment we’ve grieved before it? That would make us some kind of train of memories barreling ever faster and rougher through life, wouldn’t it? I dunno, just babbling to this screen.

“What’s the point? " Is what I think i’m trying to say. Or remember. Or find. It comes to a point where things seem predictable, and I have all this life to live, expecting to continue each day being surprised. But, I’m not. It isn’t. These new people, new experiences, those left, i seem to play them out in my brain before they even happen. Am i ruining life for me?