Nothing feels finished, except that I met an arbitrary goal. I am pleasantly surprised and proud of having done so and I have learned a variety of things along the way. The simplest to articulate are as follows:
I am more myself when I am writing.
I am more connected to myself when I am writing consistently.
The above are related but actually very different things. Having learned (or at least remembered) them, it seems obvious then that I should continue in some manner to do what I have been doing. Maybe not to such an extent that I fuck my wrists and arms and hands up, but doing at least a little of it every day. At the moment, this feels like a safe space in which to do some of that and as long as that continues to be true, I’ll try to do so.
Leave a reply