Sometimes I feel like I just need to write. Oftentimes, I don't know why or what it is that needs to be expressed. The beauty is, it always seems to find its own way out if I can get myself to start typing. It's as if I'm coaxing words out of some hidden recess within me. I moved somewhere new 3 months ago. I am now settling into a routine which will include a couple of overnight shifts a week for a little while longer. Something is eerie about the early morning hours. It's a lonely feeling but not necessarily a bad one.
There are some people that cross my mind a lot. I want to ask them question after question but something keeps me from doing this. I don't know what I'm afraid of.
Life is strange, I will be 25 before I know it and I still often forget that this is it. I have found things that reminded me of that that I tried to hold onto but my interest is something that has always had an unpredictable ebb and flow. My mind is a multi-faceted sieve and I don't always seem to have a choice in what stays or goes.
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