I'm still on the "woe is me" kick, but am realizing I'm doing it to myself. I told Cliffy I should be happy and I get scared of commitment so why am I all woeful over the pressure of being single and a parent... I only know that my brain takes me so far. All the rest is in my heart - the fear that there's no one there to really trust with my stuff, the dream of not having to struggle so hard as a single parent, of being supported with time set for my writing and other creative pursuits, of finding like-minded people to hang out with - because if they are artists, they don't get that I have to leave at 8 p.m. to put a little one to bed and because if they are mothers they don't always know the real drive to not just be creative but to produce work that will be viewed in my communities - it all makes me sad.
"Time is the substance from which I am made. Time is a river that carries me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire."
- Jorge Luis Borges