Like a good strong cloth, ones character is built up in layers, each ripping apart encouraging the reconsidering of how that happened, how it might hold together. Trying to understand that. Tending to one tiny tearing might teach us many things. About cloth. About self. About others.
It's a rocking back and forth. A pulling apart, a looking ( so much part of it, the pause), a putting back together. On and on. Like a heartbeat. The way it is. Simply necessary. Exhausting.. but Everything. The Story.
I will be away for a week or so, reconsidering entertainment in this one room we are heating for the winter. I've put the registration for What If Diaries #2 on hold for a bit till things quiet down. More time to consider it all.