Does your writing answer your questions? That’s the magic I’m finding in mine. I started the gray piece meaning for it to be (another) commentary on how society treats older women like a supply it has no demand for, and it ended up being about me grieving the loss of myself. It is always like that for me. I start writing about one thing but end up writing about another thing altogether.

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I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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