Youth is a volatile memory. It cannot be rehearsed, recycled, or recreated.
We are the product of our collected life experience. Paradoxically, we are unable to reproduce these parts of ourselves. What may feel like the very core of our being is inaccessible.
Many of us choose fear over fondness. We know memory can bite hard. Yet we shed pain trying to rekindle fires of the past.
Growing up is shedding what has been built. Rebirthing the self. Embracing change, and forging a new path.