Most of my work from this last year is sitting in a hard drive, unreviewed. This time of year is always difficult to get through, partially because the holidays make me want to firmly place an ice pick in my brain, but mainly because I am forced to go back through another lost year and review what I accomplished, and, while we (not the royal) did accomplish a lot this year, I spent most of it wondering what the fuck I was doing, and flailing about like an angry child. Now that I've really understood that I've spent my entire life apologizing for existing, I'm beginning to understand that the wall I hit earlier this year was less about where I'm going, and more about who I am. I've always felt like an impostor. Everything I was always praised for were simple things for me, and I knew that I could really be amazing at things if I tried harder, but I never reached that point, always seemingly waiting for the right time or opportunity. Now I'm just an old face that used to be good at things, like the trailer-trash, 40-something cousin who still tells stories about being the quarterback in high school.
...Your head will collapse if there's nothing in it.
And you'll ask yourself...
....... why am I hugging a tumbleweed?