I have been busy but content.
I have been stressed, but inside me there is this feeling of inner peace that I don't quite understand.
I have been inspired by the world around me and the world within me.
I have written some crappy poetry for project april, but I am happy just to be writing at all.
I feel that someday, perhaps sooner than I ever anticipated, I will finally take the chance I need to take in order to do something worthwhile with my life.
It's a strange place I'm in, but I like it.