So, I was super discouraged today…had someone say some things to me, and I walked away with this: felt like my life didn’t matter, I shouldn’t write anymore, if I write a book, it’s for selfish motives, and I no longer want a husband.
On the upside, I can pay my rent!
Dreams: most of them good; some of them bad
Visions: not everyone has them; not everyone believes in them
Even as I start to write, it feels odd because it’s about someone else, whom I haven’t asked permission from to write about, so I’ll leave the name out and make the gender general. I’m not too familiar with the timeline, but that’s not the “meat” of what this is about. As you read, you’ll find out what I mean. Continue reading