This has become a place I can go to when everything else is driving me crazy. An escape. I do miss the days when I was super involved here and always doing several different things, but lately I've felt myself slowing down in all areas of my life. I'm not sure if that's really a bad thing. The most stressful thing I ever have to deal with now is people being rude on Facebook, and I can sign off for a while (which I'm considering right now). That, and trying to figure out life. But that can't exactly be done in one sitting.
As of right now, I have had very little desire to write anything I could post here. I have a few pieces planned for Flash Fiction Month, but that isn't until July. I'm trying to work on a book, and I swear, no matter how much uplifting advice I read on it, I don't feel any more confident in my ability to get it done. I'm pretty sure George R. R. Martin writes faster than I do. Well, maybe not. Point is, I'm moving at a glacial pace. My interest in poetry has pretty much gone away for now. I tend to go through phases where I mostly write either poetry or prose for a year or more at a time, and I guess right now I'm just in a prose stage. I've considered writing memoir-ish things--maybe a bunch of short pieces that fit together. I've been doing a lot of reflecting on my life so far and feeling like I need to put it into words, even if I don't end up showing it to very many people.
I'm moving into my new apartment on Wednesday and I'm really excited about it. The town seems really nice (it's a smaller town, just a little bit further from Atlanta than where I grew up). The people I've encountered there so far are really friendly and laid back. It feels right for the pace at which I find myself moving through time right now. I'm dressing more simply. I'm eating more slowly. I'm finding it easy to do one thing for hours at a time for the first time since... maybe high school, before I got depressed the last time. (Has it really been that long?) I'm getting rid of things and adopting a more minimalist lifestyle. I'm sleeping a lot more, and not feeling guilty about sleeping in so late (I wake up around noon, because John's work schedule is 1:00 pm until midnight, and he usually has to stay a bit longer than that so by the time he gets home and we've gotten everything done that needs to get done, it's at least 3 in the morning, though getting to bed around 5 isn't uncommon). I'm finding the idea of living in a Tiny House or an RV ridiculously appealing these days. We're seriously considering it as a possibility for a year or two down the road. We're spending this lease saving up as much money as possible, so we will no longer be living practically paycheck to paycheck. We're expecting to come out ahead at the end of this month, which is... a first.
I keep feeling guilty about neglecting DeviantART and my friends here, though I talk to many of you elsewhere (especially those I've known for a long time). I know I shouldn't, but I do. I've known so many people who have moved on from this community, and I fear my time might be approaching, but I'm not ready to let go just yet. This place has been a part of my life on and off for eight years, and it's still the easiest way I've found to explore new art and get feedback on my own. Yet I feel like the part of my journey as a writer I'm at is the buckle-down-and-spend-eight-hours-a-day-on-this-thing-you-want-to-do-no-excuses-it's-your-job part. I need to spend hours writing my stories and reading other ones. I need to not let myself get distracted by things that don't matter. I need to stop feeling bad that nothing is done and ready to publish, because really, there aren't even that many things I've posted here that I consider "done" that I'd even dream of sending off to be published somewhere they'd maybe pay me for it.
It's complicated, I guess. I really appreciate all the friends I've made here for bearing with me. I love you guys.