Then I started writing for a living, and everything changed.
I can't remember when I stopped writing. But I know I've been far too busy with life to do it in the past few years, and it's been building up. I remember feeling to at peace after I would pound out a few paragraphs. I miss that. Because now, I have no outlet. I have no way to get the thoughts out, not a healthy way anyway.
So this, this is my therapy. I practice yoga to heal my body. This will help heal my brain. Purge the ugliness and frustration. Release them in a good productive manner, something I enjoy.
That's my plan anyway. I need to be dedicated. I will be. I have to be.
If not, I'm gonna lose it.
