I see the blue veins just under the skin, that are getting a little more pronounced – a fact I try to ignore is due in part to aging. And then I notice IT – glaring out as though it were an odd eyeball that just opened.
It’s bad when I decide to get out of the house and head to a coffee shop (any coffee shop), but when I get there I don’t talk to anyone and spend every last second feeling like every set of eyes is on me.
Writing is hard – especially when you aren’t doing it. I should have been writing this whole evening after I got home from work. I had every intention to get some thoughts down, some outlines laid out, some stories started, etcetera, etcetera, Peter etCetera.
Boy, has it been a while since I’ve been on here. I’ve been busy finding myself (turns out I was hiding in the couch cushions the whole time (I’m so sorry for that, please forgive me)). And maybe it wasn’t that I was busy finding myself but finding my way through and maybe just a little bit afraid of all the things I wrote before. I even thought maybe I should just delete this and start all over with another blog but screw it. My habit of quitting things because they aren’t perfect is something I need to break.