No fear. No judgement (especially of self). No inhibition.
It’s oozing out of my fingertips and I feel weightless.
I spent last night sleepless and starry-eyed. Caught between surrealist daydreams and existential longing, lingering in that half-awake state telling fables to my long-dead uncle.
A thousand pages of poetry and prayer have not been in vain.
I am fulfilled. And content. Elated.