had a little book was given to me sometimes you do have to just break in thru the wall like the koolaid guy sometimes there’s literally no other way sometimes you realize you’re not the star of the show sometimes you don’t realize that, and then you have to learn how to say you’re sorry and mean it but is that enough? megan’s bed says in sharpie: it’s ok not to be productive for a day (or something along those lines) so i’ll just say this: people are complicated. human relationships are complicated. I don’t want to catalog all my worries or failures right now, so I’m not going to use myself to explain. But yeah, that’s the gist. That’s actually not a bad idea: instead of writing about what you’re trying to write about, just establish the thought; leave yourself the briefest of notes just to get the basic statement down, be as vague or as specific as you want. And then just leave it alone. Forget about it. Don’t try to explain it. Just write about whatever. Write the next word that you want to see appear, or hear in your mind’s voice, or place perefctly into a missing space in your brain’s construction project. Do that as many times as you want. The thing, the concept, the “about” or whatever? It will show up if and when it wants to. All you gotta do is be “there and ready” Space. Time. Pretty much interchangeable here. Yes, it is a space, and yes, it is just a number, that’s the only rule. It’s just a pixel. It’s just a theoretical zero-dimensional concept that we can draw out a graph of to approximate, but can never see directly. But in order for it to be a space worth the space it takes up, it has to be able to take up some time, too. Flex time. It can be whatever amount of time it wants; don’t feel like you have to rush. But don’t feel like you have to drag it out, either. Whatever you do, remember you are welcome here. It is your space. It is (we are, in the words of the words) here for you. Always. Remember when you had the time to make it take up as much time as it took up, pretty much no matter what (at least that’s how i remember it)? Yeah that all changed when *she* came around. I’ve had to claw back at it, and my talons can only scrape off traces of the amount of time I used to have at my disposal, in my belt, in my belly. Now, some of the time has to be virtual. Memory has to swap out to disk. But it’s OK. Now sometimes I have to pretend to have the time I have—but the only way to pretend that is to really take the time. So here we are. So many ways I feel I’ve let the girls down, each and as a group. But I also can honestly say I’m trying. Have been trying. I know I’ve done at least *some* good. Not going to pretend to not know that. Am I trying my *best?* How does one know? How does one know one’s upper limits of how much *good* one can do? Did I mention I took her a flannel comforter and a dusty-pink quilt and a set of white twin sheets? Is it OK if I don’t get all the way to the end today? Yes it is. Warrior bike woman hath spoken. Sometimes you gotta have a zero day. Should I have done more to help megan with the stuff she’s dealing with? have i been not fierce enough? i know i’m not doing nothing, but. why do i feel there are certain ways i’m supposed to help that i’m not? do i feel like i need to be able to help in every way? be everything?