Whether a natural evolution or forced conversion, I find myself less inclined to take up the pen these days. On occasions when I reflect on this strange turn of events, I sometimes worry it reflects of a deeper internal regression than I have the energy to confront. Other times, I am almost pleased at the thought that I am beyond the juvenile need to record and dissect my every fleeting moment.

For whatever reason, today I awoke with a gnawing feeling. A mix of nostalgia, sorrow, happiness that I do not know how to process. So I turn to you.