I don’t know why this intrinsic urge exists within me to manipulate language and put words into the world. It’s in my id, my deepest instinctual being. 

And at this time of uncertainty, pain, and muddled clarity, it’s all I can do to make it to my next breath. When I inhale, it’s to imbibe knowledge, and when I exhale it’s to inscribe wisdom. Or some shit like that. Some things I say are just befuddled ravings of momentary insanity — probably most things in fact. But sometimes it’s these ravings that conjure the most intriguing concoctions. 

And in between these inhales and exhales, I must find ways to self-reflect, maintain focus at work, handle all aspects of promoting my book,  grow my small business, and most importantly, repair relationships with the ones I love the most.  

Not an easy road ahead, but if there’s one thing I know about myself to be true, it’s that I am not easily defeated. I may get knocked down. I may fall victim to intense bouts of anxiety and depression. I may be rigid and difficult to shape. But I know how to persevere. Besides an inextinguishable loyalty, it’s perhaps my most noble of traits.

So, it’s with my fingers on the keyboard that I forge ahead, with words flying out of their tips with fervency and desperation. I write to breathe, and that breath enlivens hope.

And so, I write on. 

Court