It feels to me like a weight has been lifted. That, by choosing to strive for nothing but my writing, I’ve freed myself from a fair amount of fear… there’s a blissful feeling inside: an absence; A fullness; a joy!
I won’t for a second entertain the idea of abandoning my goals. No, that’s not what I’m doing here. What I am doing however is approaching them differently, no longer tying tears to outcomes. I won’t have my happiness handled externally; not any longer. I’ve done it and now I’m done with it; Let the notion linger no longer.
What I will do is pursue my writing as far as it’ll take me, write about what interests me, and see what happens. If I accomplish all my hopes, fine. If not? That’s also fine. What I’ll know for sure though is that I tried and that’s enough for me.
All I want is to live a life I’ve designed; one where I decide, not spurred by chance or mere circumstance. If i can but live a life where I set the terms I can definitely be content.
I ask for no more than that, I swear.