The story of my grandmother, Lillian, rings true on many levels in life. She once wrote children’s stories and adult novels to use as an outlet for creation. She wrote every night until she passed, writing the stories of her heart and dreams.
One scary and stressful moment I had this year was uprooting my life with no clear direction on where I was going. I had two weeks to figure it out…
No thoughts, head empty. Space all around me. Music flows through me. I was moving through a place I had never been before. Well, maybe technically, I have. This was, by far, the farthest I had ever gone after dying in a dream. (TW: Guns, Death, Violence)