I graduated from University, moved back home and landed my first full-time 40-hours-a-week job -- all in a matter of three months. And in an economy like this one, we all know it would be a grave understatement to say that I am one of the
I packed up and moved out of the apartment that I had called home for the past two years, left the city I called home for the past four years, and made the "horrid" and "disparaging" move (wait for it) ... back ... into ... my parent's house.
(cue dramatic music)
My life, as society deems it, has just begun.
I have still been waging a losing war with what normal people would call "emotions", or what I would call a sea of inconsistent, enigmatic and uncontrollable disturbances, too.
In between worrying if I would get a job, worrying if my job would have anything to do with what I dedicated myself to for four years, worrying if my brother would get a job, considering a move out of the country, and trying to figure out if I should render myself an invalid who will end up with 1,000 cats, incessant allergies and some serious drugs to numb the pain of my loneliness, it's no wonder I have not found the time to update my beloved readers.
But not once did I ever forget how good it felt to express myself through prose, in my most sarcastic and unrestricted manner as I have for the past four years, right here, just like this, for everyone to see. Never did I forget how gratifying a feeling it was to have readers tell me they love what I write, are happy someone out there understands, and want me to keep writing, forever.
Never did I once forget how accepting and welcoming the blog world has been to me. And how beautifully liberating it is to release all the built-up feelings of finding out your life was never what you thought it was all along and things are almost never what they seem that can truly keep you captive in your own being.
Fear not, my friends.
I am back.
Anxious to see what is to come.
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