A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-Three-Hundred-And-Thirty-Two

I am tired of being stuck and of not finding real solutions for things.  I look, but I know, also, that I do not accept certain things that might be, if. I were to choose them.  I am stuck inside my own patter of thought as much as in anything else, and the thoughts in my mind often push me around in certain ways.  I recognize that.  I don't feel capable of doing many things that I should, if I am honest, be able to do.  I want to have more and better choices, at least in this moment.  I also recognize that a part of me is afraid of that, is not happy doing these things.  I want to be able to follow the path that I was shown.  It feels like the right way to do things, in all honesty, and it means a lot to me in complicated ways.  I also am, as said before, kind of stuck.  Their is a way in which these shifts feel the desperate acts of a failure.  Maybe it matters, at the least, that I am facing it all, in some way, if only to understand it better.  I hope so.  It is just too overwhelming to continue on as things are.

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