The art of moving on.

I'm a dweller. I live in the past - not only my past, but centuries ago. I'm fully convinced that my life would be better if I didn't have any electronic equipment - although, it's quite funny how that insight comes when said electronic equipment decides to fail me.
To live in a wooden cabin in the woods with dirt floor and no running water is a dream for me. Several days to the nearest village, having to get my own food, no phones or computers or refridgerators... Then again, being me, I'd probably only last a day and make myself insane when night comes because I'd be sure I'd hear something outside. It'd probably be like The Blair Witch Project except that I'd be the witch and I'd be completely insane.

I love the idea about how everything makes me stronger. Every experience, thought and mistake adds something new to me. Of course, the problem with this is that I add things, but don't move away from the old mistakes. I can dwell over things that happened ten years ago (no wonder I have mental problems), which is a bit of a setback for my belief in fate.
I watched Royal Tenenbaums today and I realised something. The last time I saw it was when it was new - which was about six years ago - and then I got bored very fast and didn't see the whole movie. Now I think it's brilliant. If I would want my old life back, that'd mean that I wouldn't understand this movie and I'm fairly sure that if I would meet the version of myself from 2003 we wouldn't be able to understand each other. I think I've moved on. The thoughts are still there. The "what if?" is still there, but it doesn't feel like I'm living in the past. It feels pretty good.