there is something renewing
about beginning a new page
in a new book and placing the
old one on the shelf. it's
something of self passed away,
but not gone; and a new thing
about to happen. all those
blank pages. they look towards
the near future, where i've been
living these days. lingering thoughts
that hang above my nose of moving
to a new city, not far from where i
am now. of vocation and it's inherent
struggles and passions. of love and
it's growth. i'm trying not to think
of numbers. ages, dollars, calories,
area codes, years, friends, books, debts.
i'm trying to stay active in the
pursuits of things i want, but not
think too much. i'm trying to give and
receive on an equal playing field
and remember that worry is my worst
enemy. i'm trying to remember that
encouraging words can go a long way
and that maybe, the best recipient of
those words, is myself.
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