It takes quite a while for my own self-imposed rules to settle in and get comfortable. About a year ago I made a rule for myself. I promised myself I would never write when I was feeling too emotionally raw or when my typical mental simmer threatens to boil over.
For a while that rule felt at home. That rule wore the fucking pants as far as writing was concerned. Tonight, that rule is curled up in a corner sucking its thumb while my id indulges in all out mania. Thing is, I feel so ready to boil over, I think it's necessary for me to spill a little bit here on this blog, now officially in transition, just like me and my family. I'm hoping it will also help mop up some of the mess.
I'm raw right now. Raw as rug burn. I feel surrounded by doors that won't open, keyless or simply unable to be opened. Something will happen. Some door will open and I fear what might be on the other side. Other sides...it's a motif in my puny little life these days.
