Writing used to help me cope with many difficult situations that challenged my growth, especially on an emotional level. I could pour out every little “sad” in me into detailed increments, connect the pieces, and then calmly look at it from a distanced view. I pulled things out of my past and made sense of them. I was able to heal myself by taking the position of both the teller and the listener. This worked for me mainly because all the pieces of the puzzle that I was trying to assemble were staged in what I perceived to be “a past life”. The timeline was not the biggest determinant of what a past life meant to me, but the physical and mental separation from everything that past life entailed.
Continue reading “Why I Stopped Blogging”
pale blue fragments 