Paradise Lost

A stare-off with my desktop, and I imagine each icon an element that makes me... me. I can mentally click on each one and remember the memories that got me there. I'm a serial restarter, that is my confession. A wanderer cast out of heaven, constantly looking at selves I could become. It's my search, to find one I can find peace in. But I wonder... could there be one big restart, a complete reset, a reality that happens as one falls, with no choreography of the landing? Or perhaps that's just the problem: this is all there is, and can be. And every regret that breeds more regret has been me standing in my own way all this time.

The search continues.