Still, I have to remind myself every day that the road I'm on isn't an easy one. It requires dedication, and time, and above all patience. Where I want to reach isn't just a distant prospect - It's like I am still looking at myself through a foggy mirror, cracked ta the edges. It's like somewhere at the farthest reach of a desert there lies an oasis and there I am, waving at myself. This is the road to me, and I must walk it alone. No hand will grasp mine, no companion will stand by my side; it's as much a choice as it is circumstance.
Still, I must accept the truth that this is a long trek, especially at the beginning. I can't undo the wrongs I've committed, I can't right the sins I wrought against myself, so easily and quickly. These ills that have lingered for far too many a year will not go away in a couple of months only. No, though every now and again I feel my resolve wavering, I must not let fear conquer me. It leads to a den on iniquity I clawed myself out at great cost. The road must be walked one day at a time, one step at a time. But I will get there. I will get there.
Still, in the middle of the summer, as I face a past that came a-calling, a present that demands my utmost focus, and a future where for the longest time I now feel the inner fortitude to get to, I can't help but feel my strength renewed. I had to make peace with a lot these past many years, peace with choices, peace with people, peace with events that once were and those that would never be, but the hardest part was making peace with myself. I had not intended to create this project as a form of expiation, but I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge how much it helped me come to grips with myself. I had to think about things I hadn't thought about in years, and while - yes - I do admit that some of what I wrote might be a bit biased, there's a whole lot of truth in here.
Still, I have to confess that I write this only because I know the intended goal for this project is nearing its end. I'm just delaying for a while as I wonder just how much I got left. Probably not much, and I'm sure I'll wrap up things soon. What comes next remains a mystery even to me - I'm certain that I might still have a lot to write about, though just how much of that will be for here and how much will be for the secret project, maybe to be released this year even, remains to be seen.
Still, for however many fucking times I tell myself that, if I had a do-over, that I would have done things completely different, the truth is that I would have done it all again. I would have walked down the same streets again. I would have felt everything again. Always and all ways. Forever and for ever. World without end.
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