It has been so long since I’ve written that it feels like I have lived a hundred lives & changed a thousand times.
My opinions on life and love and hate and drugs and mental illness and sanity and God and the universe and my past and my future all seem to ebb and flow unruly as the sea.
Today I am new. Today I am different. I may not always make new choices, but how I think on them will be.
Each grain of sand collecting together, building what will have been my life.
A dear friend told me that I don’t have to create amazing prose each time that I sit here to write you. It’s difficult, you see, because I don’t really know what this is. It is a hobby, for sure. It is a form of self-expression that I tend to use when I am feeling blue or have a funny story. But I don’t feel like I can stop by and write unless I have something worth reading.
Someone recently said to me, “I was reading your diary online and…”
My diary? Oh shit… Is that what this is? I mean, I don’t keep a diary. I wish I did. But I guess I really don’t hold back when I am writing you. So this could be a diary. I feel like you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to know. And I wouldn’t be sharing if I didn’t want you to know.
I want to make this more frequent. I will try and write at least once a week from now on, not leave you hanging on for so long. Not that you are hanging on in anyway, but, here you are… still reading my nonsensical bullshit. haha.
Peace & Love