I want to tell a story.

It’s 05:34 on Aug 31st. Time to get back to the rhythm of the war drums.

I’m writing this in real time. I guess I’m doing that so it creates a semblance of reality, not staged illusion.

I am a person, and I never thought that I would feel the need to defend that.

I have feelings, and I genuinely love people. I never thought I would need to defend that either.

I want the best for you, and the love that I have for you, or, have had for you, has never stopped. It has always been.

However, It has changed, and for that, I will always ask for forgiveness and expect it in return.

How that love and forgiveness is shown or reciprocated is lost in the fog sometimes.

But love cannot be measured and it cannot be destroyed.

I wrote another essay this last week. It’s an important one. It deserves to be read on a Monday or a Tuesday.

It falls at a subtle moment where I feel uniquely compelled to act in an unprofessional manner. Perhaps, out of charactor, and I don’t think I’m alone either.

I’m upset that the beautiful people didn’t turn out to be so beautiful after all, and not very loving either. Turns out that it’s all relative to the size of your steeple, and how much shade you find in it.

But even wolves in sheep’s clothing have their day in the sun.