Every morning a thousand things line up. This does not feel heavy to me and I like trying to tackle it all. The morning feels light. All is well.
The nighttime is when I fade.
Writing waits patiently at the back of the line, and often gets lost in the dark . I feel so sorry for it.
The people who I look up to the most seem to write everyday. And their line-up of things to do is surely longer than mine. I know how good it feels to be able to keep up with that daily ritual. So I am going to try again.