Thursday, November 17, 2011


I cried for the first time today since [coming home from] California. This season of loss has squeezed any and all fruit I've ever produced, showing the kind of stuff I'm really made of. The squeezing's a real b-word, but it's the only way to know whether or not everything - the blood, sweat, tears, money, creativity, love, was worth it (whatever "it" may be for you). I sat at my desk, face in hands, snot running down, and the words "I'm not going anywhere" on repeat in my mind from a voice only vaguely familiar.

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