Too fast.
Things are spinning, actually.
I don't know if things are good or bad or if any of it means anything. There's lots to think about but thinking has not solved a single problem so far.
There's lots to blog about, too. Shrew ending, and what that was. And WITCH, which I barely mentioned, which was very exciting and scary and frustrating and beautiful and a million adjectives. Everything I do is a million adjectives. Maybe I should stop having so many feelings about everything.
But then I would not be me.
I have pictures of things too, pictures that make this blog readable, but given that no one reads it and I can't think straight enough to write it, or to put anything in it, maybe that isn't an issue. Or maybe it is the issue.
Developments will come and decisions will be made. Exceptions will be made, as I seem to have become someone for whom exceptions must be made. I will live with things and be constantly angry and sad and then new things will come and I will be angry and sad about them. This is it.
I am butterflies.
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