I know the sensation of soul being further and further from body until you look down at your legs and haven't considered how they feel for weeks and weeks. In fact, maybe you can't remember how any part of your body feels. You've stopped considering your body. You're on auto-pilot, going through the motions. I know the dips and deep, hollow sadness that comes when I stop writing.
And yet.
I seem to keep doing it.
Getting back into writing is a battle. Everything takes so much effort and sounds like shit and misses the mark. But if I can just force myself, it gets easier. If I can force myself to be gentle and patient with my soul, it gets better.
Right now I need to start writing again. For self preservation. Because it's hard. Because at the end of the day, I love to write.
Three weeks ago my favorite person in the entire world died. Three months from now I graduate with my Master's.
Highs and lows, highs and lows.
Hi. Hello.
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