“You do have a story inside you; it lies articulate and waiting to be written — behind your silence and your suffering.” – Anne Rice
I honestly think we all have a story to tell, something which defines us as people. Obviously, I’m no different.
From the outside looking in, some would tell mine is in a holding pattern. But I think the most seminal moments are about to occur.
I turned 33 yesterday.
The start of a pretty large chapter in my book “of life”.
This prologue has been defined by discontent, organized chaos, and girlfriend applications falling through.
Blessings to note and recount are my loving family, loyal friends, and supportive co-workers. Oh and…an ever-growing love for self.
The latter took forever to foster.
Personally, I have arrived at a point where I know myself pretty damn well but what unsettles me is…unfinished business.
It seemed like such a big deal, years ago, that came up with excuses. Now they can go out of the window (along with time lost).
I am figuratively erasing the chalkboard and charting a new lesson plan.
There’s nothing to lose…
I am only lying to myself if I don’t (do anything).
Bye for now, KS.