I used to write a lot. I used to draw inspiration from challenges. I would turn my internal struggles into personal development projects. I would use guilt and shame to push me toward the unattainable character goals my beliefs told me to strive for. I don't write much anymore. Every time I sit down to type out my feelings theres a wall. I feel stuck in some aspects And like a completely different person in other aspects. So much has changed I get overwhelmed looking at the jigsaw puzzle of experiences...and I don't know where to start and where to end. It's never ending. The transitions keep coming closer together like labor pains. The pressure of change is my constant companion. Maybe I can just speak to the present. Where can I draw my beliefs from? From others? From books written by others? Can I trust my inner voice to guide me to live honestly? Is it wrong to choose that source inside myself? If I don't have that I have nothing else. I cannot...
Existing, breathing, being.