Younger me would hardly believe it.

If acceptance equals contentment, what’s happiness’ equal?

What you write when you sleep with a pen.

Shelley and her melancholic thread back at it again.

Staving off creative expression one matchstick at a time.

I suffer from one-foot-out-the-door syndrome.

And you have her anyways! And I have my pen!

Cotton candy’s as good a reason as any to leave me behind.

Old habits die hard, but my writing habits die harder.

Don’t repent until you see God’s rainbow.

Maybe the clarity was the friends we made along the way.