From the inbox

From my two favourite people in the whole world. They often mirror what I'm going through. Without consciously realizing that they do.

"..but what about all the time in between? each day past is a day lost, and
not in some melodramatic way. its not happy or sad. its just- gone.
irretrievably, irrevocably. the protagonist of the book i read on the
plane is a writer. but he writes stuff on demand, like for ad agencies. he
says tht its nothing to be sad about, its just his job. like some ppl
shovel snow for a living, he writes for a living. he calls his job
'shoveling cultural snow'.
Am I shoveling...snow?"

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"I cried about where I would, if ever, find that support, and if I should look outside of me at all
I may not be sufficient for myself
I will not find it in one person,
But I may not have the energy to sustain many support systems...
But then..I smiled..because of all the support systems I have,
Because there will always be some people – I can call anytime with a crisis,
And I know that they’ll be there – with or without the sustaining."