An overly vague snynopsis of the numerous dark turns my life has taken.

I  want to write something so badly, to get it all out where I can study it, but now isn’t the time. This isn’t the place. Not yet, not until the final changes are made and the world has righted itself once more. Except, I think my fear is that nothing will ever be right again. That maybe everything will always be wrong, slight askew on the mass tapestry that is life. I’ll never get where I want to be. I’ll always be working some dead end job because I don’t have the gumption to follow through.

Yeah. I don’t believe that either. If my life were a series, right now I’m in that space between books where all the boring stuff happens. Details are getting sorted and action is waiting to happen, but it’s all shuffling numbers and trying to figure out what can work and what won’t. It’s all shifting perspective, and down time before bursting into the next thing. Sometimes I wish I could skip the waiting and go right to the action. It’s also those moments when I wish I was independently wealthy. As horrible as it is, having money makes things happen more quickly. As it stands now, it will be at least a month before I can start to think about my plan. Then I’ll explain everything. Possibly in excruciating detail.


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