Writing is a discipline. Do you still want it? It's rewarding, but it takes work. It's beautiful to see words dance, but it's raw and painful. To write about what matters will strike a dissonant chord, but stick with it. There's some intriguing harmonies waiting to exist.
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I'll be honest about this part of life. It doesn't make any sense. Maybe for some people it does. But for me, each application feels like a rejection and each step forward seems to be followed by three stumbles back. I feel less in control of the plan, and I don't like that. Actually, I hate it. Those hazy shadows in the fog taunt me with their mystery. My concentrated stares to determine the identity of those shadows only ends in confusion and frustration. No answers. No answers yet. At least not while I'm standing far away, apprehending the unknown from a distance.
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