Forty-Eight and Reflection
I have a problem. (Just one?) *squints menacingly* I see my time away from my personal blog hasn't dulled the wit of the parenthetical heckler. I suppose that's a good thing, considering the fact that the heckler is born of my imagining of my reader's reactions to my neurosis. So I got that going for me, I guess. But things have been rough, this past year and a half. That creativity that once fueled me has, for the most part, gone dormant. And if you know me, or even if you're familiar with these pages, you know how much of a problem that is for me. Writing is my outlet and, if I have no outlet, all that boils and roils within this dark mind of mine stays there in the shadows. Growing. Festering. Overtaking. Even visits to my "Serenity Point" pictured above haven't helped me to release the growing tempest in my head. This past year, despite the incredible joy it has brought me, has perhaps been more difficult for me than I let myself admit. Increas