I erased my last post, as you can see...sometimes I forget that this isn't my own personal diary, that people actually read this, people who might possibly think that I'm crazy...I get a little carried away, you see. It's probably because I haven't written in my actual journal in so long, which is really strange for me. All my thoughts have gotten all jumbled up into a big impenetrable mass, which obviously makes it harder for me to make any sense when I try to sort them out (often to no avail).
I am okay. I will be okay, anyway. It's so weird how different this year is from last year. Perhaps I've stayed past my usual allotment of time to any given space--I already feel the urge to move, move, move...you know, keep things whole. The second year in a place is always hardest; that's when it begins, the little howling. It gets louder with time. Here it is, only January, and it's at a fever pitch.