there are so many people out there

people with souls

people with darkness in their eyes

the sadness taken and twisted into something worse

and then there are those who are still alone

still hurting and still so sad

but i wonder...where is the divide?

when did we decide some were hopeless

and some had a chance

why do we get to make that call at all

there are monsters in our midst

but we're far too eager to view them as misunderstood

to let the true monsters slide by

excuses excuses

while we blast those who need our help for their behavior

and truly, who am I?

what is this world that we live in

full of souls

full of the dark

but i am full too

full of questions

uncertainty and loneliness

but also filled up

despite my unworthiness

by the love of One who will see me through the darkness

a Father who will not leave

who loves all his children

because I'm not anything

not without Him

but maybe i am not so empty

because even though the world is full

He saw me, and He loved me

This poem came to me as I sat here trying to figure out what to blog. I hope it resonates with you. 

 It's been a hot second, I'm aware, and now I'm just...wondering how to pick up with what I've left off. How to return to a world that feels like it's fading away. No one blogs anymore, it seems. No one speaks. These diaries are preserved for eternity, but without endings.

So I sit here and sigh as I type these words. And I wonder: Who am I?

I am not the same bright-eyed girl I was posting three days a week. I no longer write a book every month, can no longer brag of 120,000 word NaNoWriMos. Nowadays just writing a chapter makes me struggle beyond my wildest dreams. Creative burnout hurts. You miss the page, miss the words coming, long for them... but then you realize you don't actually want to write. You want the rush of success without the need to try. I have started story after story after story in the last months, and yet finished not even a single one. The things I'm currently working on I don't want to share, because I fear jinxing it.

I get home from school, and I sit on the couch and sleep at home, then go to my job, where I deliver orders and make orders and cry internally and wonder: is this all that matters? This grind, making food and taking other people's money and drowning under the weight of consumerism?

Sometimes, I feel empty.

Sometimes...I feel like I'm a husk of a girl. Not even a full girl, certainly not someone who can be used by God.

And so I stare into the sky and I think about the future of this online diary, the one you all read, the one that you're free to comment on. I wonder: who am I? Why would you read my words? Is there something about me that makes you want to know what I have to say?

What is there, truly, about the girl behind the blog that's worth knowing?

But I persist. I've been gone for a very long time. I'm coming back uncertain what I want to do. This blog will likely change; my URL may change. I don't have a plan. I have always been a pantser, and that will continue. 

So let's see what the future holds. If you're interested in watching that journey: welcome. And thank you. I'm a bit weird. I'm a bit of a mess.

But I'd love to have you.

<3