The day is rapidly slipping away. 

I am searching for what I want to say before the clock strikes midnight and my neat little plan to memorialise my thirty years in the thirty days until I turn thirty turns into the proverbial pumpkin. 

And I type and retype, trying to acknowledge the indulgence that such a plan seems to be. Trying to acknowledge that yes, the world is cracking and crumbling around us, yet all I feel impressed to do is tell my story. It’s a tension I feel pull tight whenever I sit down to a keyboard.

But this is my corner of the internet, my small sphere of influence, and if the words here can bring any light, any levity, or any goodness into the brokenness then I will write what’s on my heart, and I will write with all my heart.