Almost
I’m coming back, I promise.
With so, so much to say…
It’s been a nice holiday (yeah, right) where parts of me have solidified and other parts are still adjusting to the new, slightly harsher light that comes with the stripping of those lovely rose-colored glasses.
Hello, again, London.
Life is tough; it’s not about not wanting you to see (read) it, it’s about me not wanting to face it. (Don’t forget, I come first.) Writing is a difficult, self-reflective task that requires a lot of vulnerability and thick skin with a commitment to being able to rise above and get over it eventually. I just need a minute to recompose, figure out my stance and then I can go back to throwing up life on the page.
There are plenty of places to start, but where does it end?
…
