history, doomed to repeat itself, unless steps are taken to prevent the events of the future from ever happening again, and the cycle completes itself, the world turns again, and the day, the week, the month, the years. buying something, anything is consolation, somewhat, but the price of time, the only, well, not solution, but limiting factor, lessening agent, dilution element, time is too expensive, time has no boutique. and even time won't wear it away. it hasn't worn away previous indiscretions. such marks on my soul, the burns, the scars, the memories to carry forever. they just get put away. and that's what time does, packs in more stuff in front, more things to fill the closet of the mind, more papers, receipts, bills so last months, last years copies are behind boxes, and it takes a little bit of digging to find it. But it's always there. always. will i learn? do i finally understand?