Im not quite sure of what to say anymore. Here, alone, with people... anywhere. I am always afraid its not the right thing to say. I used to build a sanctuary out of words, a safety net; somewhere I felt totally in control - and I fear thats what I yearn for in all things; control and perfection.
I am running out of words. I can no longer narrate my own life - I am trying to live a book, I need to realise that I need to live - and THEN the book.
I am thinking of finalising this blog. Of wrapping up all the words and long hours wretched on the floor, my frustrations taken out on myself and then documented - however cryptically, here, and I am thinking of publishing it. I would call it something short, personal, and simple. The line under the title would say ....something. I would write under a different name, no link would ever be made to me.
But everyone knows all stories must have an end. And so I must find my end, and thus finalise what I have done with my life.
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