Yearning


Sometimes a yearning enters me, like an illuminating bubble that soap-shines and sparkles energy into an otherwise too-familiar grinding drive to stack box upon box, deed upon deed, believing that someone will love me through these words. But writing is my lover, my solace; patient with my idealism, delighting in my childlike take on the world. Writing is my mentor, the one who expands my capacity to imagine a future worth living.


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