I've been writing a lot lately. A lot of it very different from how I normally write. A lot of it messy. I write on my phone, in my notes, my journal or any paper that's handy. sometimes even on my body, I do it constantly. Words run through my head all the time. A hook, or a rhythm. Sometimes other people's words gets stuck there too. And it just replays over and over. I've been very busy lately, I'm loving what my life is turning out to be. I'm very happy, surprsingly. But I'm also very tired. That does not go away. Not just physically, but also mentally. I like being warm, I love it actually. And I worry in these long months, I do not want to turn cold. I pray that my fingertips will nurture the fireplace in your soul. But I can only hope. Somedays are darker than others, and some are not dark at all. I call the dark days nothing. They are not worthy of a name, not worthy of recognition, not worthy of blame. I am scared of being dragged back, after months of hard work. I'm worried I will get all messed up again. I have to forgive myself when I'm weak, it doesn't always happen but I'm working on it. I'm always working on it. And I am gentle with myself when I fail, because I tend to fail a lot. I'm failing right now, in a sense. But it's okay, I'll delete this soon anyways, and tomorrow is only a few hours away.