The first three weeks of my 29th year have been more eventful than the entirety of my 28th year. If I could go a week without unexpectedly fooling around, unexpectedly healing relationships, or unexpectedly encountering something that makes me sad and/or angry, I might be able to write about it. Instead I feel full under the surface, like information is being processed somewhere, but isn't quite ready for words.
My attempt at writing the other day led to these thoughts, which never quite came together...
* So I will take these other words that don't quite fit * Without the dreams of how we should relate to one another * evaporate * to get before it * this state of not knowing who I am, what I want * Burgeoning *
Somewhere in there is the shadow of how I feel.