hemingway said that the words would come if you sit down at your typewriter and bleed.

i didn’t realize there would be so much blood.

holding people to the same standards as i set for myself was my first mistake.

being an optimist was my second.

believing blood can be stronger than water was my third.

and now i am so betrayed and angry, i may never be the same.

but i know this. as much as it hurts, i will not give anyone the power to bring me to my knees and fall apart.

buckle up, motherfucker. you’ve underestimated my will to survive, thrive and hold people accountable.

it’s so fucking on.

where has the time gone? this is the shortest and longest year ever. i have to admit, i am getting anxious and am ready for some normalcy to return.