The Leanover.

My life is a continuous past. I am unable to function in the present. Decisions now are culled from experiences of what once was. On a cultural level, there is a frantic urge to relive or recreate the temporality of past motives and movements and meaning. Does this allow us (or perhaps punish us) of authenticity of the present? How can we hope to live within the moment, to exist with a semblance of truth when we are so enamored with the past?

I feel dissatisfied with life in the sense that it all feels the same. Experiences are comparable to dejavu, devoid of any newness in the sense of an abnormality from day-to-day experiences. Newness is derived from the fact something, anything is there where it once was not.