I’ve been in a mood lately wanting to work on fiction again. I re-read Dawn of the Decline today, and while I saw parts that could easily be improved and expanded upon, I’m still happy with the overall arc of the story, and how it turned out. I have two other stories on here, neither of them meant to be short, and neither finished that I would love to spend some time working on.

There are so many things I want to do in my life, and I still feel so burdened by the choice I’ve made. The other day, I was completely content to stay here in Ottawa, create roots, socialize with friends, and live my life, but today, all I want to do is unshackle myself and wander aimlessly while working, writing and taking pictures. I know these inner demons live inside many people, and have long been part of my struggle with depression (grass is always greener) but I just want to have a feeling of satisfaction. I want to feel like I’m in the right place, doing the right thing with my life.

I met up with an acquaintance yesterday for a meal and a chat, and the subject of travelling came up, and instantly, I was taken back to my time in Cuba. I could have easily stayed in the small village off of the beaten path, upstairs in my own apartment, living with a host family, doing my work online, taking pictures of the beautiful people, landscape and buildings, if only they had high speed Internet.

I love writing, more than pretty much anything else in the world. To create content that inspires, to share my emotions, dreams and imagination with others, I gain an amazing amount of joy from doing so, even when no one is reading what I’m putting out into the digital universe.

I have to admit, I am not sure yet how I am going to fit it in, or even if my will to work on some more fiction will stay with me for very long, but I hope to continue to write and gain enjoyment from doing so.

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