as usual i dream of a million possibilities when i work through my days. nothing much has occurred except for the words i made happen and the thoughts on my mind. i have been dwelling on my own needs. what do i need? and what do i want indeed? the puzzle has not been solved and i am cautious. 3 years to 30. it is important not to mess life up at this stage.
i have to stop not writing. i have to stop not being carried away. i have to stop not unleashing my feelings. i have to stop trying to be in control and sensible. none of these is helping. days have become ordinary and me plain. my boss said that people who wrote well must have a good heart. i don't know how true that is, but i must take it from there and begin my own chapter. i have to cultivate myself the way i have cultivated my soul in the past 20+ years. i am running out of me.
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