There are random moments where I get an urge to write. Writing serves as a release but it’s usually just pent-up emotions that I pretend don’t exist. An acknowledgment of sadness or disappointment disguised as fear. But if I took my own advice, (that I’m always giving to others) then I would sit here in this sadness and disappointment. I would dissect these feelings, pull them apart, step back, observe them and let them teach me the lesson once and for all.