And this might just be another shot at "reviving" my writing practice but here I am, writing for this blog again. The familiar times new roman font from the drafting page and the icons surrounding it feel like home somehow. Here's what I can see rn:
Life lately has been weirdly calm then busting at the seams the next.
I've been cooking a lot which makes me happy. I have painted a bit as well.
Oh, and we moved.
Lots of happenings happened since I last wrote here. I would like to think that I also experienced growth. I believe I have grown, and I'm grateful for that.
What actually led me to write again, especially here, is for the same reason I craved my coffee every morning: I needed something to ground me.
And although journalling on paper did help a lot, there's something with writing to this blog that no one really comes to anymore, that makes it seem final. Like hitting that orange button that says publish releases the thoughts from my brain, off to the void. Which is somehow therapeutic.
I don't fucking know what's next.
All I want to do is keep writing.
And if you're here dear reader, then maybe we're both looking for the void.
The place where I can be alone.
A place where anyone is welcome, really.
If you plan to stay and hang out in my void, feel free to do so.
Just don't touch anything. Don't move my glass of water on top of the elephant. And most especially, don't ever fucking talk to the mime that sits on top of the palm tree.
He's been through shit.
Anyway, enjoy.
Grab a drink.
Bye.
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