It's been years. Like forgotten raindrops, this narcissistic trope remained in the subconscious until it was yanked into memory by a chance conversation. Many things have changed. I am older, not necessarily wiser though. People lurk in my consciousness now, no longer central to my being. I add, subtract and multiply relationships with ease; no one has a fixed address to my affections. I go with the flow. I partake of the finer things, I exist, but I also refuse to just exist. It seems as good a time as any to walk this earth. Much of the pessimism has been replaced by cynicism. But also hope, that the worst is past. One gets a feeling of deja vu sometime, of course, but the mind stills these thoughts. Think, I will have to get back to writing, to poetry, and books. Think, my place under the sun has arrived.