Because that’s what it feels like. That’s where it feels we’ve arrived, you know?
Just start over.
I don’t really do Shakespeare anymore. I don’t really do a lot of things anymore. And, at a certain point, I think I have to let those absences stop hurting and I have to, however VIOLENTLY, create space for anything new.
I don’t know who I am right now. I haven’t known for a while. It’s a sad and scary thing and it makes me want to be alone.
My name is Dani, Daniel, I don’t know what feels best right now, because, honestly, nothing feels very good. I think I still write. I think that might be the truest foundation of me. I am Dani and I write. I don’t know what right now, but I write.
I joined a gym, I am reading a book about personal finance, I go to Disney World a lot.
I have this cat.
I used to do Shakespeare.
I was in love once. Twice. Three times, I think.
We talk about past lives, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be able to remember them, right? I see each of mine clear as crystal parading across my mind every day, every morning, every blink, and it hurts my soft stomach.
The thing about closing a door behind you is that there’s just no good reason to expect anyone to be waiting for you still on the other side.
I do not know how to get to the next door. The handle feels slippery in my grasp, my key card doesn’t have the right access, nothing is fucking working.
Nothing is fucking working and I cannot go back.
Keep moving forward, says Uncle Walt, and okay, I guess.