I left a job I loved last year. I left a job I loved and excelled at, One where I regularly Pleased everyone, Nurtured every body, Balmed every wound. Except myself. Except my own. I left a job I loved Consumed by fire. Fires of rage. Fires of love. Fires
For years I’ve struggled with self-expression and creativity. As a kid I would write stories about faraway lands and magic gems, taking pleasure in toying with ideas and finding joy in creating logics, cosmologies, and universes for mostly heroic figures to act within. Molding personalities and alchemizing texture in