dear somebody,
i hope this finds you well.
i’ve been doing much better lately, which feels heavier to admit on paper than off the tongue. without school and work, the past six months have been terrible, confusing, and joyous in near equal parts. there is so much i want to say, but i don’t yet know how to say it. this is always true until it isn’t.
after all, writing is the body’s instinctual response to living. it can, with time and effort and the magic of yuki hayashi's run with the wind OST— even be fun. when you’re fourteen you write drarry fanfic not because it’s cool or irreverent but because the part of you that believes you’ll always be unloveable demands it. when you get your driver’s license at twenty-two it’s not enough to whisper; there’s not a place on earth i won’t be able to go takes to the page like a wild goose to water.
nevertheless, i hope you don’t take this for an act of self-preservation but one of self-discipline. a whittling down of the soul to its most essential, charming form. who am i, really, in defiance of and for what reasons?
assuming i don’t drop dead from embarrassment i will return with something more substantial to my lore but for now it is bright and early and allegedly february. we are on the highway home and the sunlight is spilling across the hedges and veggie fields of san simon.
like the best of rivals, the new year has come to greet us whether we are ready for it or not.
001: he who would climb a ladder must begin at the bottom.