(of course it's a cliche title... but it works)
Sometimes, I read some of the old stuff I wrote, and I can't tell what the heck I was thinking. Sometimes, the trails of thought I leave behind can be picked up again and continued. I do that with some of my old (extremely unfinished) stories. Yet, with others, I'm just baffled because I really don't write or think in lines or in any logical order. I like to think that most people don't, they've just learned to present it to themselves and the world in a logical/linear manner.
Looking back at my old private thought-files makes me realize my propensity for writing. I'm glad I'm in the field that I am. :)
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