I'm just going to write this here, It's been a while and I'm sorry.
My absence has more to do with my feelings about writing in general than anything else in my life, although another reason is also that 2017 sucked for me psychologically. In my journal writings, diary posts have trickled to just a cursory once a month post with content that I have experienced in the past, just as a record-keeping exercise rather than an analysis of my time in that moment and even that is subjected to my waning memory and my loyalty to put something in writing. During this self-exiled period between blog posts, I've experienced this period of contraction, where I withdraw from the world a bit, and questioned everything. Like, what the fuck am I doing with my life? Why do I find myself in this situation? How did the world change so quickly and embrace fascism?
Along the way, I finally faced loneliness head long, realized that I'm not that great as a friend, and that I still had so much baggage still lingering from my relationship with M and the vestiges of my hetero-normative past. I also learned: how to put on make-up; learned how to read Lenormand system of divination, as well as made some headway into understanding of Tarot; truly embraced the tenants of Buddhism as part of my personal philosophy in life; tried to learn the guitar; lost myself and danced to strangers at Trance/EDM concerts; and understood that being alone is not a prison the most people make it out to be.
It's taking me a couple of years to be comfortable in a number of things, and the universe has granted me the energy and the inclination to be expansive again. The irony is not lost in me. The world continues to burn itself, metaphorically and figuratively in real time, and here I am, with thoughts of love and lust and bright beginnings. And it's time to write again.
