I actually got down to Fish Creek tonight. I don't recognize the place any more. The banks of the river are now about ten metres further inland, the bridge landfalls are now eroded piles of gravel, and there are foreign trees washed up everywhere. It's almost like the rough changes we all go through. You don't recognize who or what it is that comes out the other side.
I still know that this is Fish Creek though. I've been talking to some old friends of mine, and I can't even connect them to who they were a few years ago. Somebody's killed people I know, filchered their skin, and have now set upon me imposters.
We all change. But don't forget where you're coming from, or else you'll never know where it is that you're going.
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