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There's this thought that's been nagging at the back of my mind in the past year. I feel like I've been reverting back to old hobbies, old interests, particularly things I used to be really into back when I was a kid. Things like Dragon Ball, Naruto, hell Linkin Park, Greenday, all those 2000s classics. I feel like it's been a regression of sorts, like the stress and anxiety of modern day has forced me back into these comfortable things as a sort of coping mechanism.

And I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. There have been times when I find myself reacting to things like I did back as a child, with a sense of naivety, or a sense of lackadaisical attitude. Sometimes, I act much more childish than I think I should.

I'm growing old, and I figured that territory comes with certain ways of acting. Like I should be acting much more serious about things all the time, but I just can't do it.

I'm also concerned that this regression into things is just a way for me to hide away from tackling the important issues popping up in my life. Well...I mean important issues besides the bills I have to pay and the work that I have to do. It's like I'm retreating back into this safety net from my childhood, reliving the things that used to make me happy because modern living certainly doesn't seem to do so.

At the same time, I don't want to keep reliving the past. I think it's unhealthy for me to remain tethered to these things. The past few years have been a practice in letting go -- Letting go of people, of places, of things. But it seems like there is this force that keeps pulling me back. I read old books, watch old movies, play old games. All in some...strange attempt at comfort.

I don't know...I don't know if this is fine. Probably it isn't. Just another old man clinging to the past. Again, I'm reminded of a Twilight Zone episode called "Walking Distance" where a businessman finds himself transported back to his childhood town, complete with time-travel shenanigans. At the end, he realizes that while he enjoys living in this past place, he has to let it go and live in the present.

That's ultimately the moral of the story here that I need to learn. I need to stop living in the past, but there is so little of interest in the present for me.

There was this woman who, at one point, was a sort of guiding star for me. Not to put her on a pedestal or anything, but she inspired me in a way that no one else did. Then one day it was over, and I was sad, but that's okay. I picked myself up and moved on. But have I really? Somedays, I still remember her. I'm no longer saddened by it. I think it's just a long sense of disappointment. Because now, I have to be my own guiding star. But the task is weighty.

I don't really know what I want out of life. I don't know what I want to do in it. What role to play. Where to go. I'm getting old. No longer in the prime of my youth like I once was. Time keeps on slipping, and I feel like I keep on falling.