My goals don't align. Where is the practicality? Do I even have it in me?
The more I felt it wanting to burst open, the more creative I became with excuses. I ran away all my life only to always circle back. Writing. Imagination. Stories. That's something deeply ingrained into my soul. I can't escape it and let this be the acknowledgment. I'm letting the floodgates open to see what comes out.
Interested in where this road leads? Expect stories. What genre? What category? What length? Only one way to find out.