It's completely obvious as to what I'm doing. The frisbee I bought, the bicycle, the childhood street reunion last weekend and seeing people I haven't seen since childhood, feeling that twinge of being a toddler in certain weather which sparks vague memories, collecting free commemorative pens, taking up painting, sticking packaging labels all over my cupboards and walls, even taking up raw, simple new interests like frontyard farming. I'm attempting to retreat to my childhood. It seems to me, the more innocence a person has, wonder of this world, the happier they can be. I know that the more innocence is wiped away, the less I care about, the more I completely throw my hands in the air about this life and the more I find this life and world completely detestable. And, I find myself a bit envious that nearly everyone I run into, seems to still have some innocence that I no longer have, some worldly wonder that gets them by and lets them carry on like normal humans, still connected socially, not at all broken or confused or driven mad. So, by retreating, by reversing, I am attempting to net some innocence for myself, find some awe, be wowed. I'm trying to get back to a certain time or mindset, and from there, start over again.

Maybe that's completely the wrong way of going about this. Like, a stronger person would just pick up from where they left off and make the best out of themselves from that point on. Not me. I can't move on from where I left off. Where I left off is a mess, utter confusion, death and pain, and psychopathy and destruction. There's still carnage all around. There's no cleaning it up, I tried, but now I just have to get the hell away from it. So, rewind. Rewind to a time of complete naiveté, when I was protected, when I was freer, when I never ever had a first love or kiss; rewind to a time when anything could be; rewind to a time when the prospect of romance was nothing but thrilling; rewind to a time when I wasn't completely weathered and worn out but instead, fresh as clean laundry from the clothesline. Forget mostly all the lessons, and stupid tricks I've learned, especially within the past three years. Do I really need any of them? They are frankly all fake and confusing. This whole time, I've been operating under the assumption that I've done things wrong, and though there is some truth to it, I'm not sure if I've taken that to extremes, blaming myself for everything, leaving me unsure of anything about myself, my thoughts, the things I say, my every decision, any actions I take, whatever previous knowledge I had, even actual events in my past. I start questioning every single thing, and that's where insanity breeds. But, when I think back at who I was before this, before him, or that other him, or that first him? There was nothing wrong with my heart or my intentions, even my behaviour. I was trusting, forgiving, so intensely loving, forever bound in loyalty and commitment. I miss who I was, and though I've learned some really important things, I've also learned some crazily disappointing bullcrap that I just can't buy into, that essentially makes lasting love simply a mind trick, and therefore, an illusion and fake. And, that does not appeal. It's the only way I could give up on love, because that way means that love doesn't actually exist at all. I can't work from there, with that knowledge and move ahead with it! Besides, to make it even more confusing and frustrating, from what assistance I seek and receive, it confirms that I was mostly doing things right by instinct from the beginning. I just didn't think I needed to be careful who to fall for. I will be going back to the beginning with that one very important lesson in my arsenal for protection.

Is this complete folly? At this late stage of the game, does it really matter if it is? Is it even going to really work? Or am I setting myself up for another several decades of relationship failures?

Or, maybe it's like what they say that you tend to go home to seek refuge and comfort when you're nearing the end of your life. Maybe that, too.