Prime. Everyone makes some progress with love. It's built in, part of the natural process of development. Kids feel so alive because they're still growing, still developing. The question is, where do you stop? One measure of that is what time of life someone looks back on as their prime, their peak. For some it's childhood, for some high school or college or that first real job out in the world. Whatever it is, that's where they got off the development train. I always thought of that in decades: my teens, twenties and so on. All along the way the current decade has always been my all-time favorite. As I come to the end of my sixties, yeah. This is the best yet by far. I am so looking forward to whatever comes next.
Nostalgia. If I'm still developing, still making progress I'm looking forward, not back. Preoccupation with nostalgia and the good old days is a sure sign I've stopped developing. Nostalgia is poisonous. The present is distorted by the past. Elizaveta takes it to extremes, nostalgia at its worst. She's an extraordinary storyteller, here working in my beloved 12/8 meter.
I went through a big spasm of nostalgia in 2020. My development had stalled, and here comes nostalgia, creeping up to get me. But I knew it wasn't right and I wrestled with it. I walked to places where nostalgia called out to me, places I used to go dance with my sweetheart. We broke up early that year. I gave myself desensitization therapy, and I reached out to people in the present the only way I could, on social media. Social media offer thin comfort, but it was just what I needed to see me over that hump, and it gave birth to these stories, a few of which originally appeared in an undeveloped form on my profile page. I shook off nostalgia, and my development is no longer stalled.