I'm an artist... torture is a prerequisite.

    Right here... at the tips of my fingers lie worlds of thoughts that refuse to materialize. I write and I delete. Write and delete. Etcetera etcetera etcetera.

    I am not myself, you see. I'm acting out of order. Losing my footing. It's been a lovely fall, but the thoughts are kicking in. The doubts. The wondering. The anticipation. That always does me in. The fluttering butterflies can last against my skin for only so long before I start to question when they'll fade. I curse my inner cynic.

    I'm not exactly sure where I would start... or even what I would say... I'm getting nervous. I'm just scared, I guess. There's a lot of cracks here and I just... would hate to slip into one.

    So...I'm interested. In the possibility. In the unknown. 

    [Title quote courtesy of Dawson's Creek... yes... Dawson's Creek]

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