I've been thinking that I should start writing again.
I have all sorts of things bubbling over inside of my spirit and mind. Life is happening to me, with me, around me, inside of me, because of me, in spite of me.
I am having such exquisite, enlightening, painful, lonely, tumultuous, enlivening, joyful, dreadful experiences. The commodity I'm shortest on is time. Definitely time. But I feel this drive to carve some out, even the tiniest bit, to write.
For me, it's therapeutic, and who couldn't use some therapy, am I right?