This was the start of a period that blurs as I try to recall it. Incidents seem to cascade and merge. Events become feelings, fellings become events. Head and heart are contrary historians.
Love is big. Love makes room for conflicting feelings.
Events become feelings, feelings become events
I seem to have a natural tendency to want to share my own observations and feelings with other people, and writing seems to be the way I'm best equipped to do that.
Because life doesn't always happen according to a timetable or calendar. And feelings can't be scheduled.