I was looking through my old notebooks recently. Actually, they're excercise books left over from my mother's teaching career. I've filled a couple of them with thoughts, ideas and rants. Odd to see how much I've changed over the last few years and how much of me remains the same. Here's an example:

Your weight against me
The warmth of your lips upon mine.

The darkness hid us from prying eyes
And from eachother.

There was meaning for me in that moment
But meanings aren't shared.

That kiss was a day early.
April showed me to be a fool.

I wrote this probably a year ago today concerning an event that happened on the 31st of March.
What's changed since then? Apart from the fact that I would never, ever write in this form...I honestly can't think of anything. A year's experience has taught me a lot, I won't deny that, but it hasn't changed who I am.