Release

Last tidbit for the night.
In high school (when sleep didn't matter much and homework could be done in an hour the night before it was due) I would stay up late three or four nights a week either in self-contemplation or writing.

Every night seemed to start aimlessly and most seemed to end that way. Now, not having had that kind of time for over two years, I can truly see the benefit I received from simply staying up a few extra hours and pouring my head out onto paper (9 times out of 10 I was typing on a computer...eh, semantics).

I really miss the honesty I had with myself as I released the day's thoughts, worries, hopes and ponderments. Sometimes it flowed; sometimes it was a struggle to articulate everything I wanted to. Some weeks my first drafts, editing and final drafts would crystallize in the same evening; others would take over a month to solidify.

A fair amount about myself has changed in this time period, but I am just as frustrated and anxious and excited and depressed and pensive and concerned and full of ideas now as I was back when I wrote regularly. I am only slightly more mature.

The main difference between then and now is that it's been so long since I've formally expressed any of those things.
It all feels terribly pent up and it is becoming more frequently apparent in my interactions with and withdrawal from those I love.

All that to say I am now sure writing is something I need. No longer is it simply something I enjoy. That revelation comes with its own joys and burdens, positive and negative implications. I hope this blog becomes my outlet, that it fills that gap that has been slowly weighing me down more and more. The main benefactors being my own sanity, my family and perhaps you, the reader. I ask for help in the endeavor.

If that is accomplished, prepare thyself:
Après ceci, le déluge.