Self Check

It's so easy to gradually shave off parts of ourselves and hand them over to others.

Am I still a writer? I still feel like one. But lately, writing has been more difficult, as work drains my energy and I feel some core realities shifting within me.

It's just a season, surely. And soon, I'll be releasing a book (all by myself!!!) that should restore some lost confidence. More details on that very soon. I'm excited.

But still... where does the time go? And what's happening inside of me when it feels like nothing's happening?

I don't know if that makes sense to anyone but me. I've tried to write this for about a week, but I'd failed at gathering the motivation. Tonight, I finally decided to show up.

In any case, keep breathing.

-D.

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Sunday Night Blues (Poem)

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Left Unsaid (Poem)