Ever since the ruckus from just before Christmas, it's been oddly quiet. I know how this phase goes, and I know that the bubble will burst soon. I have quietly been counting down for some time now, maybe about two years? And I'm counting down to the moment that I am going to close this book forever, no chapter left behind to read or rewrite. Of course people always count on being able to hurt you again and again and abuse you until you're just a sloppy piece of meat somehow. But you can't squeeze water from a stone, and it just so happens that I know that. Whether they know isn't my problem and it never really was. You can't keep trying to win battle after battle if you long ago lost the war. If you've miscalculated, own up to it and move on. If you can't do that, surprise; I will do it for you.


In other words, my life is moving on sturdily and solidly where I want it to go. I am patient and accurately paced, and my anxieties seem to be in check. I am trying to sleep well and relax, but most of the time I find it helps more just to focus on all the tasks ahead and get something done. I don't know what kind of lifespan I really have, but as for the time there is, I want to use it well, and in a loving way. I want the nightmares to subside and time to pass, and the dead to stay dead. I don't mind ghosts or memories, but they need to settle a bit more.


I am looking outside every day now, waiting. Flowers are blooming.

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