The sense of tiredness and inevitable questioning the self emerges at times. Am I doing the right thing? Is this good? Is this helpful?
Dear Lord, I am turning maudlin.
I wrote and I still write because it’s what I love doing. I remember being critiqued for my choice of words – too passionate, too unfocused, not enough depth – thrown at me till I would feel perforated.
And then there comes the question – why? Why do this anyway? What’s the use?
But through all that, the soul moves on.
Because movement is all it’s learned to do. And accepted it’s lot in this world.
Because there’s so many things to do. So much to see. So much to experience that I haven’t done.
And when one love starts waning another one starts to manifest itself.
