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There is something comforting in the uncomfortable. The lesser known happinesses, the hidden joy masked in a charade of anxiety. For what I wouldn’t give to experience the genuine simplicity once again of sitting alone on a park bench. The wind is howling, it’s cold, so the park population is sparse this time of year.…
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“If you want to write, just write. Just write.” The famous words of my father. I don’t know how many times he said that to me. Through hours of agonizing over what to do, over what to be. I had no idea, no clue, still don’t. But every time I said I liked to write,…
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Just Write 