Everything seems to come back around. Everything is some kind of repetition. All of these blog posts are recycled from some thoughts I’ve already had, or perhaps words I’ve already written, perhaps even from this very blog. And that’s what we seem to require as humans, for progress, and for meaning.
My life, my personality, my goals set and achieved…they are all a continuation from things they were before. Nothing is ever wholly new within me, and even the new parts came first from some place else.
I wish I had time to ruminate outwardly on the implications.