I’ve noticed a theme emerging in my writing. I’m thinking more about the future. It seems more real to me than it did before. In some ways it is strange to look forward. I’ve spent so much time just surviving. At times, it’s felt like I would never get passed where I am.
I like this new focus. It feels aspirational, optimistic, and hopeful. In the midst of [gestures vaguely] all of this, having something to look forward to is a gift.