I.
I’m thirty three this year and only within the last three hundred sixty five days did I realize how I’ve always known when, where, and how to start. I suppose that’s why some things in my life have taken me so long to figure out since I’m always attacking them from different angles, but never realizing it until I get there. Perfectionism is a disease and I’ve been looking for any cure for ages. Lately I’ve been asked with more frequency how I take care of myself. My answer always goes something like this: (I am still trying to find a balance between all the choices in front of me. I used to wish for mysteries until I figured things out and now all I want is to be understood - even if my answers always vary or when my questions don’t make sense(less). Life will always be a lesson in how everything changes.