When Time is in Control

I’m really feeling it for this post, because this is piece #165 (meaning that I’ve written consecutively for 165 days).

It’s only been a handful of months but I can see myself finding my voice with each slow, painful, passing day.

I’m restricted by time, as in I can’t fast forward a year from now and write like as if I were on day 530.

I just have to write like I’m on day 165.

There’s no pretending, and there’s no shortcut.

In the greatest way possible, it’s fair because it’s self-generated and can’t be stolen.