I'm trying to step carefully. November seemed to be a bit of a minefield, one in which I recklessly jumped across with no clear direction. It was fun, sure, but it left me a bit foggy, somewhat aimless, and slightly angry. I welcomed new men into my life, I said goodbye to bits and pieces, things and people, that had reached their expiration, I cleared out space for a bunch of newness. In a way it was therapeutic. 

But I also found myself reaching for things I did not really want simply for the sake of reaching, which in turn led me to acquiring things I did not really want, which in turn has left me currently attempting to figure out how to dispose of said things. And in all this madness, between jumping into new situations, cleansing out a bunch of old, and taking things I neither want nor need, there is one nagging notion that comes through clear as day ...

I need a better plan.

Not just a better plan, but a clear and concise plan! A plan filled with things I actually want, and capable of being followed through. As much as I enjoy spontaneity and reckless behaviors November did show me those two things indulged in without a clear plan will lead me somewhere random clutching a bunch of things that I never wanted, but couldn't bring myself to simply pass by. It's not quite my strong suit, though. I've never been much of a planner, rather a doer. As in, I want what I want as soon as I want it thus I put my actions in motion as soon as I think it. But to sit back, think one or two years into the future and work backward? *shudders* It feels limiting. What if I change my mind?! What if I put in all this work toward something and eight months in I decide I want something different? It's all so odd ...

I'm not angry anymore, but I am a bit aimless. A bit confused. A bit detached. I guess it's time to get serious about things. I'm just not quite sure what to get serious about. But I need a better plan, and I've got December to figure it out. 

You know, I don't really like this letter. Usually I find my monthly letters are poetic and introspective, and I truly enjoy writing them. But this month, these two letters, have just felt ... odd. I'm here, but I'm not. I'm in it, but I'm not. And I'm not sure what that means. 

To be honest, am I really sure what any of this means?

z.



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