to everything, turn turn turn.

It has been some time since I have had time or even the desire to write.
Granted, I am not a writer by trade. In fact, I suck at it it.
I also feel that writing in this place, under these circumstances dictates that I censor what I write.

I mool over the prospect of writing a memoir someday given the circumstances. Still, I suppose others' have had the same, if not more sordid tales to tell than my tame story.

Call it purging; call it grieving; call it exploiting; call it making peace with myself...it is a book that must be written some day.

Our stories all start out the same. The exposition and rising action follows...but it isn't until the climactic moment and the denouement that our stories diverge.