The synopsis we spend so much time writing - are for characters we no longer are. You cannot always draw lines between what was and what is and what should thenceforth be.
You cannot always make sense of your coexisting truths, you can only know that they are valid.
You cannot avoid good things because somewhere along the line, the character schematic you outlined for yourself doesn’t believe it deserves what you have.
You weren’t meant to be a story that plays out in a nostalgically pleasing way.
Life is vivid, changing, real, and unpredictable.
Unchartable.
With no plot other than the one we’re living in the moment, here and now.
We don’t even realize how often we choose our current experiences based on old beliefs we are still subconsciously holding of ourselves.
Because what we think of ourselves translates into what we allow of ourselves, and what we allow is what we experience, and what we experience is what amounts to our lives as a whole.
A whole of which is a book of stories, of which doesn’t need to seamlessly transition into one another.
Of which doesn’t have to be narrated the same way.
Of which can be as short or long or staggered or confusing or exciting as you want.
You are in control of how it plays out —