If you read my last blog entry, where I was still under 6,000 words into writing book three of my Red August seires, good news, I’m much further into it now. Between then and now I’ve had a few adventures. I’ve been outraged by this horrible administration. I’ve done a fair bit of event planning. But mostly I’ve had some health stuff I’ve been working on and it’s giving me the ups and downs that come with hormonal fluctuations. I get a pang, I come here. I suppose that’s why so many of my blog entries are filled up with the darker side of emotion. It’s an outlet.
There are so many feelings I’m having about getting older. Envy. Losing and finding myself. Holy hell, I could go on for-fucking-ever.
There is a pureness to youth that I miss. But there was also this constant sense that everybody else had some book on how to be a grown-up that I didn’t have. Balance.
I just want to find ways to close up the wounds of my past. I want to be better every day. I want to know that I do more good than harm.
I want to fill this page up with things I am not “supposed” to talk about. Of course these are my own restrictions. There are so many damned things I could say, not just about others, but about myself. What I would do differently, if I could. What hurts I would keep because they helped me grow.
Anyway, it’s late. My heart is kind of hurting, but also beautiful. And loved. I’m lucky for that.