I went sniffling around my old diary the other night. It was strange. I felt like I was moving through a ghost town of myself. Old links, old friends that don't work anymore. Nothing but the dusty finger prints on the window pane, outside looking in.

I read some of the old entries. Mused at my other self. True, that other self is still Me as I am still ME but this diary that I am in now is different, and that's good. But it makes me wonder of when that time will come when I will look back at this ME I am now and marvel at the person I was.