Dear L.A., I’m not myself you see,
Already missed a day in this journal, but the only thing I can do is buckle down and get back to work.
For years, I’ve relied on struggle to survive. I used momentary desperation, such as when I didn’t have enough money or a safe place to sleep at night, to focus and fuel. During times of strife, it’s always clear what needs to be done. I can find a job, get food on the table. In short, I’m driven.
But during years of calm, when there is no immediate struggle, I don’t have that same sense of purpose. So I linger, I wait around and eventually everything falls apart.