Member-only story
The History of My Face
Pushing through at all costs.
I might have to be quiet on here for a while.
I don’t want to. God, I don’t want to. I want to keep posting stuff, grow my readership, yadda yadda. You’ve heard the drill; hell, you probably want the same things for yourself.
But it’s going to be hard to write if my face is swollen shut. And that’s what started today. If I keep pushing myself, it’s not going to end well for anyone.
It’s not a huge deal. This will go away in a little while. Maybe after the cedar count drops.
But it’s going to be hard to do much of anything if I can’t see to do it.
I know there are blind people out there who are just as capable, if not more so, than sighted people. I, however, am not one of them. They’ve had a long time to get used to their condition. They’ve had lots of practice. I have not.
Yet it is what it is.
I just wanted to write about it before I can’t see to write about it any more.
Last night I made some chicken scratches in my paper journal some more.
It was a continuation of the entry I’d made the night before. Although not as directly usable as that entry, it was still pretty good. I was going to spin it into a piece for today —…
