Happy Fun Cog

I'm going through some old journal entries that I wrote about 7 1/2 years, and I am blown away by how I was worrying about the exact same things that I'm worrying about now, such as writing and women. Granted, those are two very general topics, but the way that I describe my thoughts on the topics are almost the exact same as how I would describe my thoughts now, albeit with a little less enthusiasm. I'm torn as to whether or not I should laugh or cry. The raging, perfectionist part of me wants to berate myself for not having made any progress over all these years, yet I also feel the urge to love and forgive myself. It's just very odd to read notes from my 25-year old self worrying about having wasted too much time after college. It's absurd enough to make me look at my current fears of having wasted my time/life in another light.