It's so hard to find the minutes to breathe, to be alone, a moment to stop and think...let alone write.
Someday soon I will make the time to let a river of words flow again, but until then, every day, I'm just adding to the saga and keeping a mental note and eventually will pour it all out on this blank screen I dearly miss
And maybe I will see what is behind it all once I can see before me,clearly. Maybe I could make sense of it. The days just keep falling and falling and raining on me and it's so hard for me to catch even one, it doesn't even seem like I am really trying, but my tired, weak body at night knows that I am. My clouded mind knows that I am. The time ticks away so rapidy, almost as fast as my pulse.