And here we are again, with a year stretched out in front of us. We don’t know what will happen. There may be sorrow or joy, and likely will be both. Creativity and discovery. Frustration, revelation, anger.
Here we are, with the year stretched out in front of us, unwritten, undrawn, unknown. We will be different this time next year. We will be different though we do not yet know how.
I hope the best comes to pass. I hope the best for us all.
The Wandering Introvert 