walk through the dark woods again. For reasons that remain overtly mysterious (but covertly obvious), the muse has again fallen silent. So be it.
Once upon a not-too-long-ago I would have fallen into the abyss. But there is consolation in knowing someone well; you can see into their heart and understand. And once you understand, there is peace. And patience.
Would that it not be this way. But nothing worthwhile is ever easy.
Time to find a couch and stare at a ceiling. This weekend, time for ink — time to let the needle sink deep and embrace the physical pain. There are several patterns to consider.
Life is often perplexing, sometimes agonizing, occasionally maddening, always curious.